


Intertwined

by aleatoryEpiphany



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-01-20 13:05:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 44,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12433476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleatoryEpiphany/pseuds/aleatoryEpiphany
Summary: What happens when the universe twists, driving people together in circumstances greatly differing from how they should have been? They bond deeper, closer, faster; and the differences build up rapidly. A take on TOS through the new series. Kirk/Spock. Updates Saturdays.





	1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**   **PLEASE READ THIS A/N IN ITS ENTIRETY AS IT IS IMPORTANT TO UNDERSTANDING HOW THIS FANFICTION IS GOING TO GO.**  Okay, SO! Here is the idea behind this: imagining how a Reboot!verse version of some the episodes of TOS would go, especially considering that they are basically even more blatant about the friction/developing romance between Jim and Spock. (At least by the end of the second film they are – I have not seen the third film and it does not have any part in this fic.) There will be a couple of things differing between these, in no small part because I have to build a foundation for the relationship between the two of them, which unlike in TOS will be explicitly portrayed as a  _relationship_  as well as a friendship, although not at first – first they need something to base anything on. We don't get to the TOS stuff until a few chapters in and those TOS episode chapters will be significantly longer and interspersed with non-TOS episode material that will be shorter chapters like the beginning ones.

_I will not be doing every single episode of TOS._  I'm hoping I will manage to do at least half of them, but no guarantees. Some of them I can't handle watching because my PTSD makes me react badly to many kinds of drama and emotional situations, and others simply  _do not work_  in this universe because everything is so drastically different.

JUST TO CLARIFY –  **THIS FIC IS GOING TO BE KIRK/SPOCK**  (aka Spork or Spirk). If there is anything sexually explicit in this fic I will post a warning before it happens so that anybody who simply does not like erotic scenes can skip over it.

As of yet, there is not much drama outside of the episode chapters; they provide enough, and I'm bad at writing it on my own. Many people probably will not like how smoothly things go between and before episodes, but hey, I can't change how I write. Tried; failed. Eventually a person has to just accept it and write how they write. If you don't like it, then just don't read it, I'm fully aware that my writing is probably mediocre at best.

**About Updates:**  I currently have twelve successive chapters written, am working on the thirteenth, have the fifteenth and sixteenth written up, and have two additional random pieces that will be inserted in when they are appropriate. WHILE I HAVE THE MATERIAL, I will update on a  _weekly basis_ after the first written episode is uploaded. When I get stalled, busy, sick, my muse abandons me, etc., there will be dry spells, but I WILL NOT give up on this fic. I am totally obsessed with completing it even though it will likely take years to get through as much of TOS as I can, even if I end up only doing the first season! It takes me over a day to write each episode, sometimes up to several weeks depending on how badly the content affects me and how much I can watch and then write at a time. The in-between bits usually take less time but I am not a great writer of plot so I suspect those as well will become successively more difficult to write and there will likely be fewer as the fic progresses.

**One last thing before I begin this, and it is _important_.**  Spock is a very emotional person in the Reboot!verse, and fairly early on he becomes emotionally overwrought. Even in TOS things can have that effect on him, although those things are generally something that infected him, he is still not immune to shows of emotion. It is important to the plot of this fic that Jim helps Spock decide to be more balanced and mentally healthy, and even though it seems out of character, it actually isn't – remember,  _this_  Spock nearly strangled Jim to death because his emotions were out of control. He would  _most_  certainly want to make such an occurrence less likely to happen again.

I have seen various fics floating around that are remakes of some episodes of TOS but it seems to be limited to a spare few of the eps, and so I hope this fic is sufficiently different to those!

**Aside:** If anybody has some specific episodes they would like me to try and write, just let me know! I can't promise anything but I can at least attempt to do them assuming the characters cooperate and I can handle the content.

Ta, loves!

* * *

Jim really doesn't get what the big deal is. He doesn't understand all the fuss. He was just doing his job. It wasn't the first time he had been Acting Captain in his life, and it probably won't be the last.

Only, that thought is wrong, because those absolute  _morons_  upheld his field promotion. Jim is ready to rip someone's head off their neck for this and spends five hours destroying punching bags until his knuckles are bleeding so badly that Bones has to stick them under the regen. It's  _wrong_  and they  _shouldn't_  be  **doing**  this! Jim wants the  _Enterprise_  more than almost anything he has ever wanted in his life, but not like this. Never like this. He thought it was bad when they made him a Lieutenant because he kept a hundred and twenty two people alive, but this time his mistakes didn't cost the lives of over two hundred people, it cost the lives of seven entire ships in addition to all the people that the  _Enterprise_  lost.

If he hadn't gotten into trouble, he would have been on the ship rightfully, and then maybe he could have saved more lives. Maybe he wouldn't have gotten marooned on Delta Vega. Granted, then they wouldn't have Scotty—and the  _Enterprise_  needed Scotty—or Spock Prime but even so. Maybe things would have turned out better if he'd just been a good little cadet. He knew he was a headache to everyone around him, but that's what happens when you are thrown from one life or death situation straight into another one less than a few years apart. Jim lived like he could die at any moment, because he knew that he could. It was pure luck that he survived the beating Frank gave him after wrecking (rather, completely demolishing) his dad's car, it was pure luck he survived Tarsus IV, it was pure luck he wasn't one of the two hundred and eighty six casualties on the  _USS Farragut_  during his first training cruise.

It was pure luck that he had been in the right place at the right time to hear about the lightning storm in space, and Jim can't help but wonder why  _he_  is so abominably lucky. Why  _he_  was the one to survive. He hasn't done anything to deserve that kind of luck.

He hasn't done anything to deserve anything good, honestly. He doesn't get why he keeps getting lucky. And yeah, part of it had to be skill (he aced his Advanced Tactical Training, an invitation-only class, he'd saved the Axnar Peace Treaty and won a medal – which he immediately stuck in storage because medals are fucking stupid – for keeping it from being sabotaged from terrorists, and he'd already had master's degrees in Engineering and Warp Physics when he signed up for Starfleet), but that didn't discount that he had gotten stupid lucky.

This sucks. It really fucking sucks.

* * *

Selek – it was surprisingly easy to adjust to using a new name – watched his younger ( _much_  younger) counterpart walk off with a thoughtful look on his face and smiled minutely. His experiences informed him as to the kind of adventures that this Jim and Spock would have, despite the disparity between their universes. He had no doubt that just as Nero had caused Jim to gain captaincy over the  _Enterprise_  almost a decade before he normally would have, those very actions would cause time itself to warp in order to bring about the experiences that Jim and Spock would need in order to save the lives of as many people as possible. Of course, most of their adventures would be changed or possibly even skipped over, but many of them would remain intact but changed in either subtle or extreme ways. That wouldn't happen until they began their first five year mission, though, which was a bit away yet.

He also had no doubt whatsoever that the destruction of Vulcan would cause Spock to be more emotional and volatile, which made him suppress another smile. Had he himself been more volatile, his relationship with his Captain would have been far longer. He had no doubt whatsoever that – once he was ready to accept a true friendship with Jim – before six months had passed Spock would recognise that Jim was his t'hy'la and initiate a relationship; that was, assuming that the demanding and determined Captain he served under did not take the first step himself if Spock took too long. After all, that was what had precipitated his own relationship with his own Captain – Jim had simply gotten fed up with dancing around the subject of their feelings and refused to waste more time being apart than had already passed. If even a more balanced version of himself than the one walking away could not resist his more moderated Captain, then there was no chance that Spock would be able to fight against the feelings he would eventually develop for this more impulsive and even more intelligent Jim.

Especially not when Jim already knew of how deep their attachment would eventually go. The intense hesitation Jim had felt at the idea of hurting Spock was both enlightening  _and_  promising, but even with that, still not a surprise. Jim was far more intuitive than Spock was, and would have recognised that they were well-matched and kindred spirits despite his intense dislike for Spock's attempts to be emotionless.

His interference had practically guaranteed that in this universe, such an overpowering and unlimited love would come to pass. Maybe this time around, Jim would suffer none of the heartbreak he had in Selek's own universe because of his reticence.

One could only hope.

* * *

"You aren't in love with me."

Well, that was a rather obvious statement. It was not that he rejected or could not feel love, but whatever had been developing between him and Nyota had simply not engaged his emotions (which, even though he suppressed them, he still  _experienced_ ) very deeply. They were mentally well-suited, however the tragedy instigated by Nero had closed him off to Nyota's feelings. His grief was simply too ferocious to allow softer emotions to bloom, even though he had genuinely tried, for her sake, to push past it. So he responded honestly, a soft, sympathetic, "No, I am not. I never will be. Once, maybe it could have happened, however -"

She nodded in understanding. Of course she understood. She was a master of Communications, after all. "Nero ruined that."

Thankfully, she did not mention him being in far too much pain to allow something like this to happen. Whilst it was the truth, it was still difficult for him to face. Anything emotional was, at this point. They had gone through one onslaught and then directly after it for an entire year had been one near-death experience after another, culminating in an adventure in which he had almost permanently lost his Captain and—he could admit this, if only to himself—friend. He was simply too exhausted to keep up. To be frank, the only reason he had not already ended things with Nyota was because he had barely had the time to think about it, much less to seek her out and arrange for the conversation. This was the first time they had had any breathing room in longer than he cared to think about. She seemed to see some of that, and nodded again, "We should end this then. Before it hurts either of us, before it affects our jobs. We're just lucky that we'd been too busy for this to develop into anything serious."

That was one thing that endeared him to her. She was far more sensible and less illogical than many humans were. "Thank you for your understanding, Nyota."

She sent him a wry grin and admitted, "This is just as much for me as for you. It would be unhealthy for both of us if I were to try to make this work, or worse, try to help. I'm not the person who can help you."

He raised an eyebrow to that mysterious statement and she smiled secretively at him, "A girl's gotta have  _some_  secrets. You'll learn yourself soon enough, so long as you don't allow your emotional suppression to make you stubborn about accepting help. Granted, it already has, but…"

Spock nodded. "I will not allow my thoughts about emotions to keep from accepting help that will actually help. Even if it comes from a distasteful source."

Nyota laughed and sent him a smile. "I will leave you be then, and let the Captain know, so he doesn't put his foot in his mouth and make me punch his lights out."

That sent his eyebrow higher and she flushed lightly. "Hey, it is absolutely  _not_  my fault that that arrogant playboy attitude of his pisses me off."

She left with a wave and Spock mused on her words. Of course, the playboy attitude was not exactly that – it was a mask. He had seen as much himself that Kirk was dangerously intelligent, protective, and intuitive in a way that he almost resented. It was unfair – which was  _illogical_ , life itself was not "fair" – that Kirk was so brilliant and well-regarded in spite of his previous negative behaviour, but at the same time, he had a deep feeling (make that  _knowledge_ ) that Kirk was simply finally getting something he had deserved for most of his life – recognition. Even though his arrogance had infuriated Spock, he could not deny that Kirk sometimes acted like a cornered animal, which said far more about him than his words ever did, that was for sure.

* * *

_Step one and well begun_ , Jim thought to himself as he smiled. He had just had his first game of chess with Spock (something he intended to become a bonding activity, for all that Spock had no clue of this; he had finally gotten tired of Spock avoiding him and asked Selek for advice) and he was well pleased with the results.  _I'm gonna catch you, Spock, and nothing is going to stop me from succeeding in making you mine, t'hy'la._

Of course, emotionally they weren't t'hy'la to each other yet, but Spock Prime and his Jim had been t'hy'la, that most precious of bonds. Jim knew  _all_  about Vulcan culture and language, for all that he disapproved of Spock acting so superior to everything and the general Vulcan belief that they were far above and superior to any other species with their focus on logic. No species was inherently better than any other species. That was one part of why Jim knew so many languages and cultures, both human – Jim was fluent in Standard, Russian, Japanese, French, and Spanish – and non-human. Jim was fluent in ten languages, not including mathematics, programming, and coding, and just as many cultures. All of his teachers – usually good friends or romantic partners, although Hoshi Sato had been the one to teach him Japanese, Klingon, Romulan, and Andorian – had pronounced that he was a terrifyingly quick study, and he knew he had done every last one of them proud.

It wasn't arrogance, just a fact.

Also a fact was that he had baffled and befuddled Spock, hilariously enough. He had almost been able to  _hear_  Spock thinking that he was going to spend all of his time keeping Jim from killing himself when he saw how recklessly Jim played tonight. Especially since he had found out during their game that there was no such thing as an "acceptable loss" to Jim. That had raised the amount of respect that Spock had for him. Honestly it was something that Spock should have already been aware of ages ago, but Spock had really not been ready for an actual friendship until Jim died for him. Jim had bided his time, ready and willing to wait as long as he had to in order to catch Spock unaware so that he could worm his way behind those barriers.

Blue eyes focused on the bare wall in front of his face and he smirked, resting his chin more firmly in his hand.  _I wasn't expecting the majority of this to happen to me, but that doesn't mean that I can't take advantage of the situation to make myself happy. Despite what I thought growing up, and still think sometimes even now, I do deserve happiness, and I am certain that Spock thinks the way that I used to, which means he is more than deserving of happiness as well._

Hopefully within the next few times around he would shock Spock into admitting how much pain he was in – tonight's game had turned into a spectacle, which meant that he had been able to ask Spock for the next game to be in one of their rooms with no suspicion involved, which rather sped up his plans. That was a good thing, as Spock needed an outlet for his grief sooner rather than later. It had been over a year already, and Spock still hadn't been able to deal with the grief because he was either unwilling or simply too busy to do so.

Nothing could stop Jim now that his mind was made up.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**  I didn't want to have another A/N so soon but I need to clarify something. In Vulcan, there are  _five_  different ways of saying, "I grieve with thee." One of which is from a subordinate to a superior (this includes child/adult), another of which is from a subordinate to a  _group_  of superiors, another of which is a superior to a subordinate (again, this includes adult/child), another of which is from a superior to a  _group_  of subordinates, and the other of which is for family to express with each other. Jim uses the last because while he is Spock's superior officer, he does not wish for their relationship outside of that to be developed in that manner, as well as to prove to Spock that he considers him to be more than just a friend, although Spock won't consciously register that yet. So: no bitching about my Vulcan being wrong, because it's  _not_. XD

Also for  _future reference_ : I know fanon has Vulcans being hot-blooded compared to humans, but that actually isn't right. Vulcan bodies have a  _lower_ core temperature than humans do. Not that I mind it, I'm very used to it, but yeah, just another  _don't bitch at me please_  note. :3

* * *

Jim looked over at Spock as he made his move, smiling at the momentarily intense concentration that he saw there. It had been four and a half weeks since their first chess game, and he had gotten the foundation laid for Spock to trust him with his grief. First had been apologising again for what he said to Spock, the way that he forced Spock to show his emotional state to all and sundry during the Nero incident. Then had been talking to Spock about his own grief over his father. It was nothing like the same – the man had been dead all of his life after all – but Jim had been told all of his life about how his mother would have rather had his father around than Jim around. The fact that she had let Frank beat on him had just proved how much she  _didn't_  love Jim. Or Sam for that matter, considering that his abusive stepfather hadn't limited himself to beating Jim. Sam had taken the brunt of things until he ran away.

He had  _almost_  gotten a good reaction, a reciprocation, from Spock then, but it hadn't been enough. It had still been too soon.

So instead of pushing it, Jim had held back and begun an exchange of happy memories, interests, likes, dislikes, and other various things. It was slow going, but working out rather outstandingly well. Tonight, however, Spock was struggling. Occasionally he could focus well for a few minutes, but his concentration kept slipping. His eyes kept showing flashes of pain and grief. His body was stiff and less graceful than usual. Now that their mission was under way, the routine activity was not enough to distract Spock from his grief any more. It was truly a good thing for both Spock and Uhura that they had broken up – she couldn't help him with this, and that could have broken them apart in a situation that caused resentment and hurt.

Spock made his move. It was time.

* * *

Tonight was a bad night. Oh, not that he wasn't enjoying – how strange – being around the Captain, but it just  _hurt_  too much right now. With nothing to distract him, his grief was agonising. It was eating away at him; gnawing on his shields, chewing on his control, dissolving his stability.

His head shot up when a hand covered his, and he tried to pull away until he  _saw_  the Captain's determined eyes and  _felt_  understanding, compassion, and sorrow –  _no pity, there is no pity_  – flowing into his body. But-

Then his Captain spoke in perfect Vulcan, his inflection and pronunciation absolutely fluent as he said, "S'ti th'laktra, Spock. Du nam-tor ri sa'awek. Nash-veh dungi kwon-sum nenikaya du heh nam-tor tra' na' du."

_I grieve with thee, Spock_.  _You are not alone. I will always support you and be there for you._

Spock stared at the man across from him for a moment, until what he was saying  _slammed_  into him and he gasped out a sob, almost choking on his breath as tears overwhelmed him, leaving him shaking and stunned. His sorrow, his pain, his overwhelming grief – they overcame him and he shook, nearly keening from the pressure of his shields collapsing underneath the nearly unbearable force of the onslaught of his emotions. He struggled to control it but the torrent of understanding washed away his reservations. Suddenly, it didn't matter that he had an audience, because his audience miraculously  _understood_. The Captain did not care if he was more or less Vulcan compared to human so long as he did not act in a superior manner. He never had and Spock knew he never would. Kirk was simply not like that. Spock had learned that he was amazingly accepting over the past few weeks, on top of what he had already learned over the past year and more.

The continuing support he felt, the understanding and compassion, was as cathartic as his insensible sobbing was, releasing his suppressed feelings in a steady stream.

Spock was unsure of how long he was there, but when his grief finally abated it was severely muted and he felt better than he had felt since the loss of Vulcan – more importantly, specifically the loss of his beloved (he  _would_  admit that; he was never going to deny it again) mother. As soon as he had stopped crying, Kirk had taken his hand away and was looking at him intently. "There is nothing wrong with expressing yourself when you are overwhelmed. I understand that it is not the Vulcan way, but you are  _half human_ , which bends all of the rules, Spock. You cannot make yourself either Vulcan  _or_  human, so therefore you need to stop trying to. Find a balance between the two that makes you feel comfortable, and your life will significantly improve, I promise you this."

…He had never thought of it like that, but the Captain was right. He could never be as good at suppressing his emotions as a full blooded Vulcan could, which meant that eventually they  _would_  get to be too much for him to handle by simple meditation. It had been proven to him over and  _over_  again before this that he could be provoked into an emotional response, but if the Captain was right, then finding the appropriate balance would make if  _far_  more difficult to provoke him.

* * *

Jim watched Spock take in his words and smiled slightly as acceptance and understanding bloomed in his gaze, comprehension of the truth radiating outward. He spoke again, determined to get their foundation  _set_  already. "If you ever,  _ever_  need someone to talk to about anything whatsoever, just tell me. I will always listen, I will never judge, and I will always understand. And hey, from now on call me Jim when we're not on duty!"

He grinned irrepressibly as he said the last, and waited for agreement ( _eventually_  he would get Spock to call him Jim even when on duty, if it didn't happen naturally), which was not very long in coming. Spock was practically tasting his name as he said it when he responded. "Jim… I do believe I can do that, if you insist."

Jim watched him gravely, his voice serious as he said, "I do insist. Good friends should call each other by first name, and I would hope that after this you would agree to be my friend more deeply, Spock. I mean to support you in any way that I can, regardless of if you do the same for me or not."

He knew that Spock needed it, the kind of support that he had been unable to accept growing up, but which he still so desperately had to have. His words got him a sharp look, then a searching gaze, and he let Spock observe him silently, not saying anything more. He  _would_  have placed his hand on Spock's again to prove his sincerity, but he didn't think that was a good idea right now. Spock needed to recover from finally allowing himself to grieve over his losses, not to be set off by intimately experiencing something like that when he thought it was forever lost to him. He would be able to faintly sense it from Jim as it was, even without the touch. Jim knew his telepathy was incredibly strong.

Finally, Spock spoke again, "Yes. Thank you, Cap- _Jim_."

Jim smiled happily at him and then made his move on the board, respecting that Spock needed a distraction right now and going back to their game.

He could have sworn that Spock almost smiled at his action and implicit understanding.

* * *

When the Captain –  _no, he told me to call him Jim_  – finally left Spock's rooms, he sank to the floor and began his meditation for the night, easily falling into a trance and dispassionately observing both his emotions and his carefully rebuilt shields. With the stress from his unbearable grief gone, his mind was calm once more, and his shields were fully functioning once more.

_Jim was right. There will be a balance for me, one in which I can both express my emotions when necessary and yet still be as restrained on a normal basis as what I am used to. How odd that I can indeed be both human and Vulcan at the same time, that I will finally have a balance between the two sides, and that it could only happen because of the advice given to me by my Captain, whom I used to hate so passionately._

His life was so odd, but somehow he knew that he would not have it any other way. This connection would be good for him, it was blatantly clear. He gave off a purely mental sigh and sank deeper into his meditation, smoothing out his mind as he always did. Tomorrow was a new day with a new set of circumstances. He needed to be ready for it.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning Spock marvelled at the ease with which he was able to meditate. Meditation had not been so easy since – well, since he was but a  _child_! The experience left him astonished and to him that was confirmation enough that the Captain  _was_  right like he had thought last night – he could find a balance between both of his sides and become a more whole person for it. He was supremely content as he went to breakfast and got a salad of his favourite fruits from the replicator, sitting next to Nyota. "Good morning, Nyota. How are you doing?"

She peered at him curiously but could not read him and sent him a smile, "I'm doing well this morning, thank you Spock. How are you?"

"Surprised," he responded. "Did you know that the Captain speaks Vulcan? Fluently, at that? His inflection was perfect, and what he said was not something he could have just picked up somewhere, as what he said is uncommonly used."

He was speaking of "I grieve with thee," in the way that Jim said that, but "You are not alone" was also uncommonly used in their culture, and most Vulcans simply used the Standard "I" instead of "this one" (nash-veh) nowadays, unless they were elders. Nyota blinked and then  _stared_  at him, which made him raise an eyebrow. She flushed lightly and turned her attention back to her meal. "I was unaware of that. I wonder where he learned it?"

Chekov sat down close to them and asked, "Where who learned what, Uhura?"

Sulu sat next to Chekov and said, "Oh probably the Captain and some language, Pavel, the Captain picks them up ridiculously quick. Did you know he speaks Japanese as if he was raised doing so?"

The young Russian man made an exclamation and added in, "The Captain speaks Russian fluently too! It is so wonderful to speak it again!"

Spock's eyebrow was far higher now, as he mused, "Vulcan, Japanese, Russian, Standard… I wonder how many more he knows?"

How fascinating. He had been learning that there were depths to the Captain that had been unseen previously, and had a suspicion that they were only scratching the surface here. Then the man in question sat down with a brilliant grin, "Good morning everybody! What's the conversation topic?"

Nyota sniffed and bluntly stated, "You are."

He grabbed at his heart with a dramatic cry and seemingly became morose, leaving Spock marvelling at the flair of his Captain, "Ouch! I am  _wounded_ , Uhura! You have callously broken my heart, gossiping about me!"

McCoy sat down and elbowed the Captain, "Drama queen. It's too early for this, Jim. Shut up."

Chekov, as usual, took it with a smile and asked, "How many languages do you know, Captain?"

_That_  made the Captain give them all a slightly confused look before he shrugged, "Ten, not including mathematics and programming and coding languages. It's a hobby of mine to learn new languages because language is about communication and expression and it is fascinating to learn what other cultures value the most and how it impacts and shapes how they communicate with each other. I'm thinking about picking a second new one to learn this year – Scotty's teaching me Scots Gaelic right now. Maybe Cantonese. Ensign Biyu offered to teach me. I might wait until I've finished learning from Scotty though, I am very busy after all."

"Da! This is true! Russian is very different from Standard, and some things are easier to express in my native language."

Well, well, well. How extraordinarily fitting. The Captain had more in common with both Spock – who was, after all, a specialist in  _xenolinguistics_  (and eight other fields) as well as a scientist – and Nyota, who was their Communications officer, which encompassed far more than simple words. Speaking of Nyota…

Spock turned his eyes towards Nyota and she was staring at the Captain as if he had grown another head, which, he had to admit,  _was_  rather amusing. Nyota had likely never even once thought that Jim had this sort of depth to him, although he had been routinely showing it to Spock. It made Spock wonder why the Captain was focusing so much on him until he realised that the Captain  _had_  let Chekov and Sulu see other sides of him – McCoy already knew many of Jim's sides, and the Captain had mentioned spending time down in Engineering with Scott. So, it was not Spock that was being singled out, it was  _Nyota_. He wondered why, until she said, "No. Fucking.  _Way_. You do  _not_  get to geek out over that kind of shit, what is  _wrong_  with you?!"

He blinked and turned towards Jim, eyebrows raised and then lowered shortly. He knew they had some sort of history, but now it seemed like exceedingly  _bad_  history if Nyota was still reacting like that after this past year and more that they had been working together. Her grief when the Captain died for them had not been false, but humans could be contradictory, even logical ones. The Captain sighed and said, "Look, Uhura, I know we have gotten off to  _several_  bad starts, and I know you resent me a lot based on the  _very_  little you know about me, but don't you think you should actually get to know me before judging me ten ways to hell? I've managed to be able to spend time with all of the Officers on this ship except for you, even though I have blatantly not been inviting you to do anything sexual. I haven't even been flirting with you!"

Which was strange in and of itself, and Nyota should have sat up at that. The Captain was an inveterate and almost (but not quite) obnoxious flirt, although Spock had deep suspicions that the moment he got  _serious_  about somebody, the flirting would stop (or simply become more subtle) if it had ever existed to begin with. He would have to be incredibly great friends with someone in order for him to be able to actually fall in love with them – Jim held himself back even as he gave all of himself to others and for others. He was incredibly reticent about letting other people see into what made him into who he was now unless it was something trivial, like this instance – notice Jim never said  _why_  learning how different people communicate with each other was so important to him. Maybe Spock would ask after chess tomorrow night.

Nyota flushed and was about to retort when Spock intervened. "The Captain is right, Nyota. Ever since he gained Captaincy, he has been taking time out of his limited free time in order to try and connect with as much of the crew as possible so he can learn their personalities, strengths, and weaknesses. In addition to that, it lets them see that he will be a good and trustworthy captain because he actually  _cares_  about them. Please do not let your previous prejudice interfere with you doing your job effectively or the Captain doing his job effectively, Nyota."

She shut her mouth and stared at Spock like she had never seen him before, but all he did in response to that was raise his eyebrow in a silent rebuke for her unseemly attitude and behaviour. As angry as the Captain had made Spock during their various confrontations and interactions before and during the Nero affair, he had still responded to the friendly overtures given to him by the man in a positive way because he knew that they had to learn to get along and trust each other or their endeavours would be doomed from the start.

The Captain turned towards him and flashed him a smile that made him feel oddly grateful, and he let his approval of how Jim handled the situation show in his eyes, which the Captain could already read exceedingly well – probably part of his obsession with various forms of communication. Body language was perhaps the most integral of languages. Then he turned back to Nyota and sighed, "Thank you Spock but you can't force Uhura into getting along with me. She has to want to do it herself or it will never work out. She will consistently and constantly resist me and refuse to see that we have anything in common, if she isn't willing to see deeper."

Ah, Spock had not realised that. He did believe that his rebuke was making Nyota think more clearly, however, because instead of being angry she looked worried and thoughtful right now, as if she were only just realising there were negative consequences to her actions. They all settled into their meals after that, somewhat awkwardly and with Chekov and Sulu clearly trying to pretend the confrontation had never happened.

Then they finished and went to the Bridge, starting Alpha shift.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:**  About French – I do not speak it, but this is  _centuries_  in the future so I assume that languages would have migrated and shifted. I picked French because of the amazing fic  _Atlas_. (If you haven't read it already, I highly recommend doing so; it's one of my all time favourite fics! Angel Baby1 is an outstanding writer!)

* * *

"Cap-Jim."

Jim – that was getting easier to remember and integrate now – smiled at him as he had all of the previous times Spock had slipped and corrected himself. He clearly appreciated the effort. "Yes, Spock?"

"What was it that got you interested in language, culture, and communication?"

Spock was fully prepared for the eventuality that Jim might be reticent or hesitant to let him know, but was instead pleasantly surprised when Jim leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across his stomach. "Sure. I can tell you that. Anything you get interested in, just ask me about it. I'll never lie to you or brush you off, unless I can't talk about what you are asking me just yet, in which case when I  _can_ , I  _will_  tell you."

He blinked before almost-smiling. That was a most pleasant discovery indeed, although it did make him a bit suspicious – he doubted the Captain was so open with anyone else. Then again, Spock was Jim's First Officer – they had to have a deeper level of trust, so it probably wasn't anything to be suspicious of, really. "Thank you, Jim. That is quite agreeable to find out."

Jim smiled at him again before clearing his throat and flushing a bit. "It's not a great start. I very first wanted to learn another language in order to be able to tell my mother that I hated her in a way that wouldn't make her cry. She doesn't love me – probably hasn't since I became a toddler – but telling her I hated her always made her cry, which made me feel guilty, and I hated feeling guilty for hurting her when she didn't even give a shit about me. Fucking stupid. Anyway, when I went to my friend who was the daughter of French immigrants, she told me that she would either teach me  _all_  of French or  _none_  of it, because I should  _never_  learn a language just to be vile.

"Well, I was a bored, intelligent kid who could not resist a challenge and who  _really_  got interested in her response. She knew the situation and agreed that I did not have to love my mother, so it was very confusing – until I actually began  _learning_  French. It is a very romantic and passionate language with a lot of focus on emotional satisfaction, whether those emotions being satisfied are negative  _or_  positive. It was then that I realised why she had  _really_  insisted so much – if I was going to emotionally express myself, I could  _not_  only do it in a negative way. I still talk to Giselle to this day, she's the only friend from my childhood that didn't abandon me when I finally got sick of Frank – that's my stepfather – beating me and told my mother to send me to live anywhere but with her."

Spock just  _knew_  there was a very important story about when he went away, but didn't know whether he should ask or not – he didn't know what kind of important it was.

Then again, Jim could always say no for now. He could easily tell him in his own time. "Where did she send you, if you do not mind me asking?"

There was a sharp intake of breath, and Jim paled a bit, but put his hand up before Spock could ask him to wait on informing him of what had happened. "No. You'll find out eventually – might as well make it now so we can talk about this when we need to instead of avoiding it every time it comes up."

Jim swallowed and let out a shaky sigh, worrying Spock. This could not possibly be good. In fact, he would go so far as to say that the incident had been horrifically traumatic if just telling him the  _name_  would do that to Jim. "Tarsus IV. You've probably found out the truth about what happened there, if not then I'll explain some other time. Just so you know, I was  _not_  on the list of people considered worthy enough to keep alive. I was on the "kill" list, as were all of my family and friends there. I… I'm J.T."

This time the intake of breath came from Spock and he felt his eyes widening. Jim had survived  _that_  massacre?! Spock only knew the truth about it because of an incautious Admiral and his own searching after the fact – the events on Tarsus IV were classified, and with good reason, and the nebulous identity of the leader of the Tarsus Nine was finally properly identified. He wasn't surprised that it was Jim. Even with that though… How in the name of Surak was Jim even  _remotely_  capable of what he was? That was highly improbable! "I am at a loss for words."

Jim gave him a tentative smile and moved his chess piece. Spock took the hint and resolved to think on this and respond in an appropriate manner before the evening ended.

After twelve point four minutes, he finally thought of something. "Would you take it amiss if I were to congratulate you for the courage it took to get where you are now from there?"

Jim looked up, clearly startled and pleased, and this time his smile was bright and lovely as he said, "Thank you, Spock. For not pitying me, belittling the loss, or acting like it obviously could not have affected me so seriously just because I managed to bounce back. I haven't told anyone about this since I told Bones a few years ago, and not many people before him. Mostly just counsellors and therapists, who usually either pitied me, belittled me, or acted like it was no big deal. Only one understood, but I didn't get to her until it was almost too late."

That simply confused Spock; were they not supposed to be professionals? "That seems very wrong of them. I do not understand why they would react in such a manner."

He let out a bitter laugh that Spock immediately  _hated_  – Jim should never laugh like that, so disillusioned and despising. "That's because my mother would not allow Starfleet to treat me like they wanted. She insisted on civilians who could not possibly understand something like a planet-wide massacre. She didn't really want me to be helped, if I can be honest with you about that. I know your mother was a wonderful woman, but mine… not so much. She is a highly respected Starfleet Officer, but she didn't love either of her sons, neither Sam nor myself. She especially hated me. Sam mostly looks like our mother, but I look just like my father – spitting image, I could be his twin. I know she was likely just hurting, but I cannot have any positive feelings for someone who takes  _anything_  out on a child in any way whatsoever."

Spock felt exactly the same. Children were cherished and protected on Vulcan, they were precious. Never, under any circumstance, mistreated. Well – sometimes it did happen but always unintentionally, a parent being too strict or something to that extent, like his own father, Sarek. Of course, children would be children and they often abused each other. "I will be completely honest, I feel that your mother – and your stepfather – is a despicable person. Nobody should ever mistreat children in any way, shape, or form, much less not caring for them properly and allowing someone into their life who will physically harm them. Similarly, physical harm to a child is something completely not tolerated or acceptable in any way in Vulcan culture."

Jim laughed – this time a soft chuckle – and said, "It seems that despite our disparate backgrounds, we sure do have a lot in common, Spock. But, I do feel the  _utterly_  obnoxious need to point out that I already knew that, as I dated a v'tosh ka'tur for a year, she was a transfer student in high school, the first Vulcan I ever met."

He laughed again when Spock raised his eyebrow, this time bright and lively, his blue eyes sparkling like sunlight on the sea. "I know, what an introduction, right? But she grew up being a proper Vulcan, and though her parents weren't exactly  _pleased_  with her decision to cease her emotional suppression, they recognised that it was ultimately her decision and they did not have the right to force her to fit the mould they wanted her to fit. I learned so much that year and a half. That was why I was careful when I touched you – dating a touch-telepath was one thing, but you and I aren't dating, we're learning to be good friends and letting it take us where it takes us. I can't touch your fingers or the underside of your hand, although if I need to project something to you, the top of the hand or your wrist is more acceptable. I have to control my emotions whenever I touch you so you don't get unwanted leakages – for instance, no letting stress or anxiety leak over, you don't need that at  _all_."

Spock was speechless –  _again_  – and marvelled at how amazing it would be to have a close friend who actually  _understood_  this. Even Nyota had not completely comprehended, and had freely let her emotions play over her skin when she touched him. He inhaled slowly and let his thankfulness show in his eyes as he softly said, "Thank you, Jim. I do believe that this friendship is something that will benefit the both of us."

* * *

Jim gave Spock a soft, understanding smile as he went back to the game. Oh yes, he knew everything he could and could not do, and knew he had to carefully repress his constantly growing attraction whenever he touched Spock. Jim was going to be exquisitely careful about wooing the Vulcan. He had the feeling that Spock had never really had a friend who truly understood him before, and being Spock's friend was more important than anything else he could do interpersonally. Spock  _needed_  him. Just as Jim needed Spock.


	5. Charlie X

**Charlie X**

"Materialising."

Jim watched the transport pad dispassionately as Spock stood next to him. This was an official mission, their second mission on this trip so far – they were transferring a young man who had been shipwrecked on the planet Thasus fourteen years ago and miraculously survived all this time on his own. Soon the Captain and Navigator of the rebuilt cargo ship  _Antares_  would be here to transfer the boy to their care, after which they would take him to his nearest relatives. The three men and the boy's bag materialised on the transporter pad and Jim stepped forward with a winning smile, extending his hand politely. "Captain Ramart! Hello, I'm Captain Kirk."

Ramart smiled and shook his hand, "Nice to meet you, Captain Kirk. This is my Navigator, Tom Nellis."

Jim shook the navigator's hand, smiling at him as well, "How do you do?"

Nellis grinned – a bit stressed out, that grin was; Jim wondered why he was so stressed – and said, "Fine thank you."

Before the navigator could say anything else, Captain Ramart tilted his head with a more strained smile, "And this our castaway Charlie, Charlie Evans. Here's his dossier."

The boy looked to be about seventeen years old, with curly, light brown hair and brown eyes, and an air about him that was tense and wild. This boy did not, Jim thought, have very much control over himself. Granted, he never had a way to learn it, but Jim felt bad for his relatives for having to deal with this when he was already such an age. Seventeen year olds were difficult at the best of times – even Pavel had had his moments when he was seventeen. Sighing, he accepted the dossier and sent a welcoming smile towards the kid. Maybe he could get Pavel interested once he was over his cold – they were of an age, only a year or so apart, and it wasn't to be for very long, after all. "Charlie. We've heard a great deal about you. Welcome aboard."

He turned back to Ramart and the man smiled at him with another strained look. Spock caught his eyes and glanced at Charlie – had the boy done something? "Wonderful boy, Charlie. It's been an honour having him aboard."

Nellis spoke up, his voice just as strained as Ramart's was. "Why it's been a great pleasure, the things that he's learned in the last-"

Captain Ramart interrupted Nellis, which was unusually rude, "Absolutely! To think that this boy spent practically his whole life alone on that planet. Everyone killed, just a few data cards to learn from."

The young Charlie grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, interrupting them (not much of a surprise, since he wouldn't know how rude it was) to ask, "How many humans like me on this ship?"

Ramart responded, "Like a whole city in space, Charlie. Over six hundred in the crew of a starship, aren't there, Captain?"

At that, Jim smiled a bit, "Six hundred and twenty eight to be exact. Is there anything we can do for you, Captain? Medical supplies, provisions?"

Charlie interrupted again (he would have to talk to Charlie about that) saying, "Over six hundred. All human like me. That's exciting. Is that the right word?"

Nellis nodded with another forced smile, "That's perfect, it's the exact word."

Ramart spoke quickly after that, saying, "You see, we'd like to keep Charlie with us, but with his closest living relatives on Colony Five and your vessel going that way, Starfleet-"

"I'd like to see your ship now. All of it. The people and everything."

Cornflower blue eyes gave Charlie a sharp look and Jim told him, "You keep interrupting, Charlie. That is considered to be very rude. Also, just to make you aware, they are not all humans on this ship, we have several other species as well. Please do not treat them in a rude, mean, or cruel manner or I will have to do something about it. We are all equals aboard the  _Enterprise_."

Then he turned back to Ramart with a smile once Charlie apologised for his actions, "We have a large supply of entertainment cards on board, Captain, would you like some?"

"No, but thank you, Captain. We've a tight schedule to make. Just forty of us, we're making out fine."

Jim laughed softly, "This must be a space first. A transport vessel that doesn't need anything! Not even, say, some Sarian brandy? You could relax for an hour before you go back, Captain."

He was being flirtatious, but that was just how Jim was. Equal-opportunity flirting with anybody that was good looking. And Captain Ramart was fairly handsome, for all that Jim wasn't actually interested. Flirting was part of his personality and he wouldn't change it for anything except himself. Well, or Spock – if Spock ever felt unhappy with it he would stop in an instant. Ramart stepped onto the transport pad with a shake of his head, Nellis following him, "We're fine, thank you Captain. Pleasant journey."

The Ensign manning the controls beamed the pair back to their own ship and Jim sighed and turned toward the door. Yeoman Rand (not to be confused with Ensign Rand) came in and Jim smiled at her. She smiled back, before waving at Charlie. "Yeoman Rand, would you please show Charlie to his rooms and then take him to Medical for a proper check up?"

"Sure thing, Captain. Come on, Charlie."

Charlie, however, was staring, speechless, before he asked, "Are… are you a girl?"

Jim barely kept from laughing aloud at the affronted look on Janice's face, and barely kept from grinning as Charlie looked toward him and asked, "Is that a girl?"

Jim raised his eyebrow and nodded, "Yes, that's a girl, Charlie. Go on, now."

They left the room and Jim turned back to Spock. He'd had his First Officer here with him to observe and see if anything was unusual about the boy, which clearly there was. "The effusive praises of Captain Ramart and Navigator Nellis were coerced out of them by some sort of psi ability. Mr. Evans did something, and when he finished glaring at them they just burst into conversation, which is unnatural. I am unsure of what, exactly, such an ability would be, but it does seem to have the potential to be dangerous or frightening, as both the other captain and his navigator were terrified – their body language showed that clearly, and their fear was practically shoved into me."

He frowned – he hadn't intended for Spock (who was an unnaturally adept telepath, capable of feeling others' emotions even without relying on touch) to get more than a baseline read, but there was really no point in apologising, as it wasn't his fault that they had been terrified. "I noticed that. Strained smiles, rushing off without requisitioning anything… but what on earth could it be?"

Spock quietly said, "What, indeed, Captain."

* * *

"You're the older one, Bones.  _You_  supply a father figure. For fuck's sake I'm not that much older than he is, regardless of how much he may or may not look up to me. Besides, since  _when_  am  _I_  an acceptable role model? Since  _never_! Your idea is preposterous. Just, completely ridiculous."

Bones sighed and Jim looked seriously at him. "There is something unusual going on here, Bones. I can't get so involved that I ignore any quirks or bad habits because I've gotten attached to the kid – and while that is unlikely, considering he's nearly an adult, I'm only human," he said with a grin towards Spock, whose eyebrow was lifted slightly, "So I could always make mistakes."

His older friend growled slightly before sighing again, this time in resignation. "Alright, fine, Jim, but my daughter's just a kid right now, I don't know how to handle a teenager!"

"You'll learn," Jim said blandly before turning to Spock. "Spock, thoughts?"

"I do wonder how he survived on that planet. It is now my belief that there are possibly Thasians on the planet after all, although likely not in a form the scanners can pick up on. His story about learning to find food on his own is highly unlikely considering that there are few edibles on Thasus."

Bones scoffed at this, but Jim held his hands up, "Regardless of if he had help or not, he is alive, he is here, and he needs to learn how to be  _human_. There's no point getting into an argument over it right now. We can't afford to be divided."

* * *

Spock was playing his Vulcan lyre when Nyota began humming along over her card game with Yeoman Rand, before he stopped and she flushed. "I'm sorry, I did it again, didn't I?"

He let a smirk show in his eyes and raised an eyebrow towards her. Then he began strumming a song that Nyota had written – a rather silly and pointless tune that was nonetheless somewhat amusing, as it used a noticeable amount of symbolism and made Spock out to be some nefarious being, which was why it was so amusing: the idea of Spock being actively nefarious was, frankly, absurd in the extreme.

She brightened and stood, all of the eyes of the Rec room turning towards her as she walked over to Spock, looking at him expectantly – by now the crew of the  _Enterprise_  were all aware that she had a stunning singing voice. "Oh, on the starship  _Enterprise_ , there's someone who's in Satan's guise. Whose devil ears and devil eyes, could rip your heart from you. At first, his look could hypnotize, and then his touch would barbarize, his alien love could victimize, and rip your heart from you. And that's why female astronauts, oh very female astronauts, wait terrified and overwrought, to find what he will do. Oh girls in space, be wary, be wary. Girls in space, be wary. We know not what he'll do."

The Rec room burst into cheers and whistles, and Yeoman Rand called out, "Another verse!"

He kept strumming and Nyota hummed a few bars before joining in with an impromptu verse, just as their latest passenger walked in, "Now from a planet out in space, there comes a lad, not commonplace. A-seeking out his first embrace. He's saving it for you. Oh, Charlie's our new darling, our darling, our darling. Charlie's our new darling. We know not what he'll do."

Before she could continue, her voice abruptly stopped, as did the sound of his lyre, and he sharply looked around the room to find Charlie scowling thunderously at Rand, who had clearly been paying (according to him) too much attention to other people. The boy initiated an interaction with Rand, playing card tricks that were clearly more than simple tricks, and just as clearly being brought about by some kind of psi ability, exactly as he had hypothesised earlier.

The Captain needed to know about this.

* * *

"Kirk here."

Jim looked at his communicator and tried not to focus on the  _awkward_  young man who had been conversing with him. That conversation had been uncomfortable and was yet another reason why he just  _could_   _not_  be this kid's father figure. The kid had no idea of what was socially acceptable (he had slapped Janice's  _ass_  for fuck's sake – no wonder she had complained to him earlier that she might have to get forceful with the kid), and if he focused too much on Jim's outward behaviour he could come to think that all kinds of things were okay that absolutely weren't unless you had someone's permission or things like that. Flirting with everyone you spoke with, male and female alike, was not actually acceptable – not that it deterred Jim but it was accepted in him because aside from that, he was generally professional. ( _Generally_  being the key word, there.)

"Captain Ramart of the  _Antares_  is on D channel."

He frowned; why would they be calling? "I'm on my way to the Bridge now."

Charlie asked, "Can I come with you?"

Jim hesitated for a moment but then decided what the hell, the kid might just be missing them. After all, they'd been his first human contact after the crash. "Sure thing, kid. Stay out of the way though. There's a lot of fiddly stuff on the Bridge, we can't have the ship going off course or anything."

"Okay."

They walked swiftly to the Bridge, catching a turbolift to get there, and Jim resolutely did not say anything. He was worried that he shouldn't let the kid come along, but he'd rather know where Charlie was while speaking to them than leave him unescorted. If something happened, he would rather Charlie be observed than alone.

Just as he walked onto the Bridge, he heard Uhura saying, "Can you boost your power,  _Antares_? We're barely reading your transmission."

Spock was there, and the look in his eyes was not pleased when they lighted on Charlie. Odd – something must have happened that Jim was unaware of. He raised his eyebrows and silently asked if he should send Charlie away but all Spock did was minutely shake his head. Okay, that was weird. "We're at full output,  _Enterprise_. I must speak with Captain Kirk."

"Kirk here, Captain Ramart. What can I do for you?"

The transmission was not very good, indeed. The other captain's voice could barely be heard above the interference and static. "Captain, we're just barely in range, I've got to warn-"

He cut off, and suddenly Jim had a  _really_  bad feeling about this.  _Dammit I shouldn't've brought the kid along! If anything happened to them it's my fault!_  "Re-establish contact!"

Uhura looked at him worriedly as she fiddled with the controls. "They're not transmitting any more, Captain."

It was a shame he couldn't think about how pleased he was with their growing friendship right now. "Charlie, I need you to leave. Now!"

Charlie left and Jim said hurriedly, "Spock, sweep the area of the  _Antares_  transmission with our probe scanners."

Spock moved to his station with an "Affirmative, Captain."

Jim collapsed into his chair and rubbed his forehead, cursing under his breath. Nobody mentioned it, which he was thankful for – he didn't want to bite anybody's head off over his own stress and his own mistakes. Uhura asked him concernedly, "You think something happened to the  _Antares_ , Captain?"

Jim gave her a terse, "Yes."

It was all he said, but her eyes flicked to the door and her mouth set into a grim line as she nodded. Spock finally responded, saying, "Picking up some debris on our scanners, Captain. It appears to be what is left of the  _Antares_."

"Fuck!" Jim jumped out of his seat and left the Bridge, barely noticing when Spock followed him. When they entered the turbolift, however, once it was in motion Jim punched the wall. "This is my fault! I thought he might want to speak to Ramart and stupidly let him tag along! When I  _knew_  he has some sort of psi ability! Fuck!"

He went to hit the wall again but Spock (?!) restrained him. His skin was cool through Jim's shirt and he clenched his fist before sighing and relaxing his body so that Spock didn't feel like he had to restrain Jim from hurting himself any more. Spock let him go and forcefully stated, "This is not your fault, Jim. Charlie would likely have destroyed the ship the moment he knew about the transmission if he had not been with you at the time. You did not have the knowledge I do because I got called to the Bridge before I could give you the information, which makes this outcome as much my own fault as it is yours, if it happened to be either of our faults. But  _it is not_. It is solely the fault of Charlie. We must decide what to do about him, if anything can be done."

Jim quietly stated, "I don't know that anything  _can_  be done, Spock. How the fuck do we deal with an out of control teenager who has too much power for anyone else's good? We can't take him to Colony Five! He isn't fit to live among humans, dammit! He just  _murdered_  forty people – people who  _rescued him_  – without a second thought!"

"Then perhaps that is what you should do, Captain. Change our course away from the colony and let the Governor know what is going on."

He breathed a sigh of relief, limply leaning against the wall of the turbolift. "Thank you, Spock. That's exactly what needs to be done. Logic wins again."

Spock simply raised his eyebrow at him and he smiled weakly, changing the turbolift to take them back to the Bridge. Spock apparently decided to speak while they were headed back. "All of Charlie's abilities are abilities traditionally found in Thasians, Captain. It seems highly likely that either he has been in contact with Thasians, or the planet Thasus itself incites the development of those abilities. I felt it necessary for you to know this."

When they got back to the Bridge, Jim told Uhura, "Call the Governor of Colony Five, Uhura. Ensign Kellen, change our course away from Colony Five."

Suddenly Uhura's station short-circuited (what the  _fuck_?), shocking her, and Jim called out, "Spock, get Bones down here,  _now_!"

Spock bent to it as Uhura got up with a wince. "I'm pretty sure I'm not really hurt except for an unexpected shock, Captain. I'm more infuriated that this is happening! There is no reason for it to have short-circuited! It refuses to do anything I ask of it!"

"Captain! I can't change our course! Any coordinates I feed in just get rejected out of hand!"

Lilo on the helm turned to him, "The helm isn't responding either, Captain."

Just then the doors behind him opened and he whirled around, "Bones!"

But it wasn't Bones. It was Charlie. The entire room stilled and Jim cursed again. "You can't do this Charlie! You can't just force people to do what you want, all that will do is make people dislike you and hurt them. If you  _ever_  want to have friends, doing this is eradicating the chance of that happening."

Charlie, however, was steadfast, glaring at the room. Then he looked at Spock and smirked. Spock began to speak, "Tyger tyger burning bright, in the forests of the night."

"Shit! Spock!"

"I'm trying to—Saturn rings around my head, down a road that's Martian red."

Jim was aware that Spock was fond of poetry – they both were, and shared it with each other frequently. Nobody who hadn't been  _told_  that deserved to know, however! This was infuriating and he couldn't do  _shit_  about it! It wouldn't have been so bad if it was all Command personnel but it wasn't: Hikaru and Pavel were out sick – they still haven't found a cure for the common cold – and there were all the people at stations who rotated out daily. "Charlie, release the transmitter! Let us go!"

Charlie was impassive as he said, "You don't need all that subspace chatter, and I refuse,  _Captain_. I'm in charge now."

Bones came in just then and looked around, "What's wrong? Spock called for me and then started spouting off poetry! I'm a doctor, dammit, not a poet!"

"It's Uhura, she got zapped by a malfunctioning panel. Please see to her, Bones."

Spock was, unfortunately, still at it, Charlie forcing the words out of his mouth, "Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary."

Charlie laughed, a chilling laugh, one that bordered on evil. "Very nice, Mister Ears. Oh, I can make him do anything, anything at all! Whirl around, laugh, anything that I want, he will do!"

"That is  _enough_ , Charlie! It is  _not_  funny, it is  _not_  entertaining, and the only thing you are accomplishing is making me want to be  _anywhere but where you are_."

The teenager gasped and stared at Jim, taking a step back as his eyes looked around the room, at everybody who was noticeably not laughing, not entertained, and not pleased. For all that most people on the ship didn't really understand Spock, he was incredibly highly respected, in no small part because he had buried his resentment and become Jim's friend in spite of their past. Then he pouted rather unattractively (it was nothing like Pavel's endearing and devastating pout) and said, "I don't care! I don't  _care_!"

Then he left and Jim could almost  _feel_  Spock's relief, before he solemnly stated, "He has reached a point where he won't back down, Captain."

He sighed, running a hand restlessly through his blonde hair. "I know, Spock. I know."

There was nothing he could do about it right now, however.

* * *

Yeoman Rand's voice filtered onto the Bridge, and Jim realised that, like she warned him the boy might earlier, Charlie must be making too big of a deal for her to continue trying to gently slide him aside. "I want you to get out right now."

"But I only want to be nice to you!"

"Get out, Charlie."

Spock looked at him and Jim nodded, "Spock, with me."

* * *

Spock watched his Captain stride furiously towards Yeoman Rand's quarters, silently worried for Jim. This situation had to be terrible for him – his innate good nature made him want to pity and connect with Charlie, but the boy was bordering on being a psychopath (if not already there – he had, after all, destroyed a ship with forty people on it) and was incredibly dangerous to all of them. Moreover, he was a danger to the people they were supposed to bring him to. Ideally they would have taken him back to Thasus, since he had clearly been surviving perfectly fine on his own (assuming he was, indeed, on his own, which Spock was highly dubious of) for his entire life there. He might be human, but he was by no means capable of functioning amongst other humans right now.

They turned a corner and Jim burst into the room, followed by Spock, but Charlie used his powers to knock them over and disable them. Rand was immediately to their defence, however, yelling out, "Charlie! How dare you!"

Then she slapped him, and then he made her disappear.

"Why did she do that? I loved her but she wasn't nice at all. What you did wasn't nice either, but I still need you, Captain. The  _Enterprise_  isn't quite like the  _Antares_. Running the  _Antares_  was easy. You have to be nice. Alright?"

The look on Jim's face was one of incredible pain, but he resisted the pain Charlie was using to try and coerce him into obedience, and only asked, "Spock?"

"My legs are not functioning properly, Captain."

As a matter of fact, "not functioning properly" was an understatement. His legs were broken, but he was not going to tell Jim that just yet. If he did, nothing would stop Jim from pummelling Charlie. The Captain glared at Charlie. "Let him go, Charlie!"

The boy raised an eyebrow, "And why should I? I don't like him. I don't like you either, but I need you. I don't need him. I could make him disappear right here and now and never have to see his stupid face again."

Jim simply looked determined, as he responded, "I'm telling you to let him go because you need me to run the ship, and I need him."

Charlie huffed and suddenly Spock could move again, his legs healed in an instant. He was (not that he would admit it) suffused with warmth from hearing his Captain state that he needed Spock with no embarrassment or shame whatsoever. He had simply been stating a fact, but it proved how deep their friendship truly went. "If you try to hurt me again I'll make a lot of people disappear."

Spock stood and watched Jim gravely look at Charlie, "And what about Janice? Is she dead? Gone? Destroyed?"

The boy got a stubborn look on his face as he responded with, "I won't tell you. Growing up isn't so much. I'm not a man and I can do  _anything_  I want!  _You_  can't do what I can!"

Charlie left, and Jim briefly touched Spock on his wrist, transmitting the beginnings of a plan in seconds that would have taken much longer to say aloud, and more risk as well. When he nodded to the Captain, Jim smiled at him, clearly relieved that he wasn't upset. It was the first time Jim had touched him skin-to-skin since the night he aided Spock in purging his grief, which just went to show how much Jim respected Spock's personal space and his limits. Then Jim left to follow Charlie, and Spock went to put the plan into motion.

* * *

"He had a mean look. I had to freeze him. I like  _happy_  looks."

Jim watched dispassionately as Charlie entered the room that Spock was outside of, before he turned towards Jim. "Aren't you coming in?"

He shook his head, blue eyes watching the teenager coolly as he tilted his head towards Spock in a silent signal. Spock activated the force field, and when Charlie tried to exit the room he was bounced back into it, falling to the ground. The boy gave off an inarticulate cry of rage before standing up and glaring at the doorway. Suddenly the entire  _wall_  was gone, and Jim found himself to be paralysed (along with Spock) as Charlie forcefully stated, "That wasn't nice at  _all_. You'll be sorry. Just you wait, you'll see. You'll be  _sorry_  you did that."

Then he could move and breathe again, and he took in a shuddering, gasping breath as Charlie walked off with a glare, repeating, "You'll see."

Jim turned to Spock with a sigh, going to the wall opposite where the room was and sagging against it. " _Fuck_ , I can't keep up! Nothing works! All we do is piss him off more!"

"It was a good plan, Captain, you could not know that he would be able to disable our trap in such a manner. Besides, you are forgetting one factor, Jim."

He slid to the floor, gazing blankly at the ground and resting his head in his palms, feeling hopeless and furious. "What's that?" He asked dully.

There was a smile in Spock's voice as he responded, "The universe seems determined to make sure that you survive no matter what happens. They call it "Kirk luck" among the crew."

His brow furrowed and he looked up quizzically, "That makes no sense."

It made no sense at all, but the words still gave him a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach because, in his experiences so far, it was true. That everybody seemed to realise this about him… He wasn't sure  _what_  he felt about it, but it certainly wasn't a pleasant feeling. He didn't  _deserve_  that luck, after all. He had done absolutely nothing worth experiencing living through things that should have (and in one case,  _had_ ) killed him over and over again.

Spock raised an eyebrow and there was a smirk in his eyes as he responded, "It is illogical, yes. Much like yourself. Had you stayed behind on Earth instead of getting smuggled on board the  _Enterprise_ , you would have died as Nero used red matter to turn the Earth into a black hole. When your parachute could not hold Sulu's weight in addition to yours, you would have died but for Chekov's skill. When I marooned you on Delta Vega you would likely not have survived; you certainly barely escaped death, as you have told me. I was closer than you can imagine to choking you to death, and yet I did not. A miracle considering how Vulcan emotions can break free and how ferocious they are when it happens. You  _died_  and only the barest of luck allowed that we could revive you using Khan. I repeat, Jim: the universe is determined to make sure that you survive, for some unimaginable reason."

There was a smile in his tone when he said the last, and Jim felt his lips quirking into their own smile. Notice that Spock wasn't actually  _complaining_  about Jim's continued existence, just pointing out very teasingly that it was illogical to be happening. "Okay, you win. I won't give up."

…Did Spock just –  _barely_  – roll his eyes?! That was great! "You were indulging in a spot of self-pity, not on the verge of giving up, Jim."

Jim grinned widely and barely kept himself from clapping Spock on the shoulder. He  _would_  have done it – it wasn't as if it would be the first time – but he had already touched Spock without permission once today, he wouldn't do it again unless it was necessary. Even though he  _really_  wanted to.

* * *

"Captain, my instruments show that we've got a message coming in on subspace frequency three, ship-to-ship. I can't hear it though, sir."

Jim sighed and asked, "Are you creating that message, Charlie, or are you blocking one that is coming in?"

Charlie almost looked innocent, except for the hint of sadistic amusement lurking behind the teasing quality in his eyes. "It's my game, Captain. You just have to find out on your own. That's how the game is played, after all. You can have it now, I've locked on course for Colony Five again."

Charlie left and Jim growled, tugging at his hair restlessly. "Dammit, I can't take him on, I can't predict him, and I can't risk him disappearing anybody else! Brat makes me want to take him on though, fuck. I really want to pound his face in."

"That is out of the question, Captain."

Good ol' Spock. Jim had expected a response like that. Although… Hmm… "Wait a minute. I wonder… Spock, has Charlie done away with anybody since he took over completely? He hadn't taken full control when he made Janice disappear."

Spock paused what he was doing, eyes flicking towards Jim as he slowly responded, "As far as I am aware, he has not, although I have not kept track of him completely."

"Well…" Jim mused softly, almost to himself, although he knew everybody currently on the Bridge could hear him, "Maybe he  _can't_  disappear anyone any more. It could be that he's overreached himself. This is a big ship we're on. He's taken full control over it. If we could tax his power, say, turning on every device on the ship: every circuit, every light,  _all_  of it. Then when he's struggling with that, if I could distract him maybe Bones could tranquillise him, keep him sedated until we get back to Thasus. He can't possibly keep control of the ship if he's unconscious."

Bones scowled at him, "I don't think so, that sounds too risky to me, Jim. We don't  _know_  that he hasn't made anybody else disappear, you're just assuming that. Not to mention we don't even know if a tranq would work on him."

"I don't think we have a choice, Bones. I really don't – if we don't do something he will get rid of every single person on board this ship. I refuse to allow that. I  _refuse_."

Charlie appeared in the Command chair, and Jim frowned fiercely at him, moving forward even as Charlie stated, "I can make anyone go away any time I want to. It doesn't matter. You can't do anything to me!"

Jim was standing in front of the chair now, blonde hair tousled from running his hands through it. "Get the fuck out of my chair. Now, Charlie."

His voice, he was proud to hear, was utterly toneless, almost bored. Charlie eyed him and smiled mockingly, "I've got your ship,  _Captain_. You can't do anything about it."

He scoffed and raised his eyebrow, glaring at the teenager, "Maybe, Charlie, but I don't think you can handle any more. In fact, I'm pretty damn sure you've reached your limit right about now, and doubt you can take on even one more thing. But you're gonna have to; you're gonna have to take on  _me_  now."

Jim could practically feel Spock's amused disapproval radiating out from him, and Jim smirked, shifting into a ready stance. Charlie was staring at him, and if the kid hadn't been such a blatant psychopath he would have felt bad at the look he received from Charlie. "I could have sent you away before! I could have, but I didn't! Don't make me do it now!"

_Too bad. I was right, he can't handle one more thing, but he's going to have to. I am done letting him have his way_! "You've got my ship, and I want it back. I want my crew back, whole and exactly how they were when you changed them or made them disappear. I will get that outcome even if I have to break your neck in order to get it, Charlie.  _I will not let you hurt anybody else, do you hear me?!_ "

Jim rushed forward as he said the last and grabbed Charlie by the shirt, throwing him out of the Command chair and watching as he landed on the ground with a thump. The entire room was utterly silent, watching them intently.

Charlie got up and screamed, "Don't push me!"

Jim fell across the chair as Charlie filled his body with pain, fire arcing across his nerves, burning through his veins, boiling his blood. It was agonising, but Jim stayed silent, refusing to give in, just as he had the last time Charlie did this to him. When it was over he resolutely pushed himself up, ignoring the tremors radiating through his body and the stinging sparks of agony shocking him irregularly. "Sorry. I'm sorry but I had to teach you. You have to stop it now.  _I'm_  the one in control now, not  _you_!"

Suddenly Spock spoke up, and Jim could not mistake the bare hint of satisfaction lacing his voice, "Captain, the navigation console is clear now. The ship is answering the helm."

Then Uhura broke in, "Sir! Something off our starboard bow. The message says they are from Thasus!"

She sounded incredulous, but Jim simply smiled at Spock. He'd been right. Not that it was a surprise. What  _was_  a surprise was Janice Rand appearing right in the middle of the front of the room, blinking in shock as her shirt swayed in a non-existent breeze for just a moment.

Charlie uttered a soft, "Oh no."

Meanwhile Yeoman Rand asked, "Captain? How did I…?"

Jim smiled at her, "It's alright, Yeoman. Spock? Any ideas?"

"Actually, Captain, sensors show that there is something there. The deflectors indicate that whatever is out there has no solid substance."

Sure enough, there was some sort of green energy or something out there. Jim refused to feel any pity as Charlie cried out, "No! No, don't let them take me! I can't live with them any more! You- you're my friends! You said that when I first got here! I just want to go home, just take me home, don't let them take me back there!"

Suddenly a floating, green head appeared on the Bridge. At this point, Jim just couldn't even muster the energy to be surprised. Spock was right about Thasians, of course. Of course they wouldn't show up on scans if they were beings of pure energy. Of course they would have raised Charlie. The being spoke to them, his voice oddly echoing through the Bridge. "I have taken my form from centuries ago, so that I may communicate with you. We did not realise until too late that the boy had gone, and we are saddened that his escape cost the lives of the first ship. We could not help them, but I have returned your people and your ship to you. Everything is as it was, and as it should be."

Jim watched the energy being and Charlie who was now cringing beside his chair. He looked at Spock, who nodded imperceptibly, and sighed. "Let me guess: you are here to take him back?"

The Thasian said, "Yes. If he were to stay among his own kind he would kill them or force them to kill him. There is no other scenario or possible outcome."

Charlie cried out, "No! I'll never do it again! I'll be good, I promise! They can't touch me, I can't feel them, I'll be good only let me stay!"

Jim shook his head. "I'm afraid that I agree with your friend there, Charlie. You can't be trusted because nobody can contain your power enough to teach you to live normally."

It was a sad fact, but it was the truth. He had wondered what they would ever do with the kid, but this was the kind of opportunity they needed. He glanced at Spock again, and the Vulcan nodded to him again. Good, Spock agreed. This was the only thing to do.

"Thank you for taking him off of our hands, good sir."

Charlie faded out as the Thasian whispered, "You are welcome."

Janice was clearly having difficulty wrapping her head around this. "What just… How…?"

Jim rested a hand on her shoulder, "It's okay, Janice. It's over now. You should go rest."

He turned to face his crew. "Everybody else, check your stations, make sure everything is in proper working order. Uhura, when you're done with that, call the Governor of Colony Five and explain – succinctly – what happened. We'll still stop by there for lack of other orders. Spock, you have the conn. I need a short break; I'll be back soon."

Then he left the room, sighing heavily and walking to his quarters. Maybe becoming a starship Captain was more trouble than it was worth… Nah, he'd get over it. Soon his body would no longer be stinging him, and he would go back to the Bridge and resume his work. Life would go on.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Woo! Okay final update for this opening block! I'd considered leaving it at chapter five but then decided that the wrap up is equally important as the episode, so even though it means thinning my pre-written buffer that much more, I'll go ahead and post it. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

"Are you well, Jim?"

Spock watched as Jim looked up towards him. He was laying on the floor of Observation Deck C, watching the stars pass them by idly as they travelled slowly. Spock was worried for his Captain; the incident they had just gone through had to be difficult for him. Part of him would naturally want the teenager to be capable of learning control and being able to live with his own kind, but the situation had outlined clearly how impossible that was, and Jim had given up without even a token fight. Of course, he had had Spock's approval, but Spock was not entirely sure exactly how much that meant to his Captain.

Jim sighed, bending one leg at the knee and tilting his head back more. "I will be. I know we did the right thing – not like we even had a choice; even if I'd argued he would have pointed out that death was inevitable and taken Charlie anyway – and I'll get over my dissatisfaction eventually. I'll be honest, part of my being unsettled is because I didn't get to punch his lights out. Anger at what I couldn't stop from happening to my crew is a large part of my state of mind right now."

That made sense. Jim would, of course, have several conflicting emotions about this situation. "Is there any way I can help, Jim?"

His Captain sighed and rolled his head slightly. "Just your presence helps, Spock. Knowing you are here, that you agree with what happened, that you think it happened the right way in the end, that you don't think I am a complete and total fuck up for not fighting to keep the kid…"

When Jim trailed off, Spock took the opportunity to take a seat next to his Captain. That was the core problem, then – Jim felt as if he were in the wrong for not attempting to keep Charlie with them. "What happened in the end was exactly what had to happen, Jim. You did no wrong, letting Charlie go so easily. You did the only thing that could be done, and it was wise of you not to fight the inevitable outcome."

There was silence for a while, until Jim reached out and touched his wrist as he had done earlier today. It was brief, just a few seconds, but the gratitude that washed through that touch was overwhelming and awe-inspiring. He had no idea that his opinion could  _ever_  mean so much to anyone else! "I'm sorry. Words weren't enough and you deserved to know-"

"Jim, there is no need to apologise. Instead, I thank you for showing me that. It is pleasant to know that my opinion means so much to someone else. "

There was silence again as Jim watched the stars pass by and as Spock observed Jim, basking in the gratitude radiating off of him.

* * *

Jim had taken a risk, touching Spock skin-to-skin again. However, that risk had been  _so_  very worth it. Spock had  _needed_  to know how he felt as much as Jim had needed to be absolved by Spock. When he finally broke the silence, he said softly, "When I was seventeen like Charlie, I was in Russia, and I was a very,  _very_  broken teenager."

Spock turned to look at him, one elegant eyebrow raised. "Why were you in Russia instead of in Iowa?"

He sighed, "When I got back from Tarsus IV… Well, I told you that the counsellors my mother gave me didn't actually help any. After a couple years – I was only thirteen when I got back, but I was already in high school, which is how I met T'Ara – it became just too much to keep being with my family who didn't care about me. Sam had run away by that point and gone off to make his own life. He still talked to me, but I just couldn't handle staying there without any support. So I ran away. I joined a group of acrobats that were travelling around. They taught me how to better defend myself – showed me lots of unexpected and/or dirty tricks, compared to the martial arts I'd previously been taught – and how to be flexible and acrobatic both in fighting and for pleasure. Tomorrow if you want, you can join me in one of the simulation rooms that just give out opponents rather than scenarios and I can show you how I fight in a pure fight, since every time you've seen me fight before I've been holding back a  _lot_. I'll even bring my katana. I don't fence, but I know my way around a sword, for all that my education in using it was ended early. Sulu's teaching me more, when we have the time.

"Anyway," he continued, "They travelled all over North America and then moved on to go to other continents and countries. We travelled around Europe for a while, then moved on to Asia and finally Russia. Well that was where we split up. Not because of anything bad happening between us, but rather because I was slowly breaking down and becoming more and more unstable. Finally one day, one of the ropewalkers – that's something else they taught me how to do although I'm only passable at it – came back from an errand she was running and unceremoniously dragged me off to the local Starfleet base. It wasn't a big one, and was more of a recruit centre, but one of the kids I had taken care of while we were running from the executioners had been from the area and when he'd come back to Russia, that was where they had sent him to. Somehow Celestina had found that out, and she managed to contact Viktor and get him to finagle a recommendation for therapy."

Jim laughed a little, his blue eyes looking up at the stars so that – even though he knew Spock was watching his eyes and could see the emotion in them – it felt a little less like he was baring his heart to someone who hadn't even been through what he had. That'd been the hardest part about therapy. The acrobats had all been trauma survivors, and while, yes. Spock was now a trauma survivor as well – the entirety of his home world had been destroyed, for fuck's sake, and he'd nearly died on many of their missions, just like Jim had – it was an entirely different manner of trauma. That was largely (although not only) psychological trauma. For the most part, the acrobats had all been victims of  _abuse_.

He couldn't look at Spock, or he might not be able to finish, so he closed his eyes, took a breath in, and continued on the exhale. "I was in Russia for five years, from seventeen to twenty two, and all five years I was there, I was in therapy. I was also in school – I'd been being taught everything by the acrobats, but my therapist insisted that informal schooling was a waste of my talents, had me tested on everything imaginable, and put me in college classes once I took the tests. I tested straight out of the last year of high school and in several cases my scores were high enough to test me out of the early level college courses. I might have had a spotty education, but it was a wide education, and I learned how to do a ton of different things. I was taking about twelve different classes at any one time, earned my Master's in Engineering and in Warp Physics and took enough classes that I could've had a couple minors if I'd wanted to and it was tough but…

"Well, if I hadn't been taking so many classes, I might have really broken. Going through all the shit – both from Tarsus IV and from my entire fucking life before then – really was difficult on me, and even then it still wasn't enough. When I finally went back to Iowa, I got stuck right back into being a delinquent because there was just nothing to do. They didn't have the kind of education system I needed to thrive in Riverside and in addition to that my stepfather was beating me – and I wouldn't fight back because if I did I'd have ended up in prison – and my mother was abusing me whenever she could be bothered to be home, and it was just… a really shitty situation, you know? Pike probably saved my life when he recruited me."

That was enough, for now. He had talked about his therapy, which was actually one of the more difficult parts of talking about Tarsus IV, although it definitely was easier than actually telling Spock what happened was going to be. Mostly because therapy was a vulnerable part of his life. It was trying and emotional and had given him the need to work himself in the ground as someone he didn't know (at first anyhow, eventually he developed a great bond of trust with Ilena, and she was still his current therapist and he saw her via vid-comm once a month) turned over every experience he had and examined it, voiced opinions on it, and told him how his own opinions or feelings on it could be managed. She taught him coping mechanisms and mitigation strategies and how to function on a daily basis without losing his mind. 

Spock spoke then, his voice soft in the gloom of the Observation deck. "You have lived more in one life than most people have in three, Jim. And to think, you continue to push the boundaries, experience more, and explore more. You must have been overjoyed when you received our assignment."

He chuckled, "Heh, yeah I was pretty damn pleased. I mean just think! Exploring new worlds, finding new species, having adventures all over the universe! God, I was really happy to find out our mission. Although, I'll be honest with you, part of being so pleased was that I would be completely away from Earth for at  _least_  several months, if not years. No milk-runs. No close-to-home diplomatic missions like I was  _positive_  they would give us since we're their flagship. I mean, yeah, there will be diplomatic missions and I don't mind them but I want to do more than just that. I like doing important things, but I also like exploring and learning. I like pushing boundaries back."

He glanced a look to Spock, who made a soft sound with no name, "Of course you do. It is my belief that you could never be simple, Jim."

That just made Jim grin widely and wink at Spock, "Complex is my middle name."

That got him a raised eyebrow and a  _very_  bland, "I was under the impression that your middle name was Tiberius, Jim. Did you change it?"

Jim almost said something until he looked into Spock's eyes and burst out laughing. The asshole was  _teasing_  him! Oh, man, that was  _great_! Who would have thought that they would become such great friends so rapidly! It had only been two months since they left Earth for this five year mission, but already they were amazingly close, open, and honest with each other, and Jim was falling way too damn fast. Jim had been expecting to make his move within six months to a year, depending, but at this rate… Well, he had to wait and see. Even if he could tell that Spock  _did_  have feelings for him, Spock had to be willing to reciprocate before he made a move. They had to move at a pace comfortable to Spock, not to Jim, who was already falling hard (that was a lie, he was in so deep he was drowning) for his First Officer and couldn't imagine his life without this friendship.

"Thanks, Spock. For everything."

It was a good way to end the day.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:**  Shi Sei Kai Kan is a type of karate that was created by Patricia Briggs for the Mercy Thompson series, although I have heard of a couple of types similar to it. So it ain't real, but when modified some it seemed eminently suitable for Jim.

* * *

 Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Move!

Jim danced forward a step, lunging towards a virtual enemy and knifing them in the neck – coincidentally, that was the first way he had ever taken a life back on Tarsus IV – his knife disappearing back into his booth sheath as soon as he was done with it, in a move almost invisible.

Then he danced back, waiting for the telltale, nearly-silent  _whoosh_  that signalled another enemy in the simulation room. Spock was watching him, but that didn't mean that Jim was going to show off. In fact, what it meant was that Jim had to actually  _try_ , not just play around and beat everybody with ridiculous ease. To that end, he had upped the difficulty of the opponents, as well as allowed for groups of people. Even when he was shitfaced he could take on a small group – although that night before he joined Starfleet he had been holding back because if he'd taken those thugs seriously he would have killed every last one of them – but when he was sober…

Well, one of his favoured styles of fighting – a form of karate called Shi Sei Kai Kan – was geared towards taking down multiple opponents, both armed and unarmed. Not just taking them down, but taking them down and making sure they didn't get back up again. On Tarsus IV that had meant killing them, but when he'd gone back into lessons in San Francisco it had meant a breaking style.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.  _Whoosh_.

Jim pushed himself into the air, twisting around into a backflip to avoid the lunge of the opponent behind him and landing behind it. Then he grabbed it around the throat and launched it back over his shoulder, the opponent dissipating once it hit the ground, as his move would have broken the spine. Next would probably be a group.

Watch. See. Plan.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.  _Whoosh_.

Five people around him. Dodge to the right, grab opponent's arm, break the elbow, dislocate the shoulder. Disabled. Dance to the left, slam his shoulder into a chest and throw across the room – that one would be back, keep an eye out for it. Lunge forward, break the wrist with the weapon before it can be used, break the arm trying to grapple with him, two breaths, kick and break the kneecap. Disabled. Twist to the side, avoid the lunge, brush opponent away so it looks like he is barely using any effort to redirect the enemy. Normally that would make the enemy mad but this was just a fighting simulation not a training simulation ( _fighting simulations need to be more comprehensive will talk to Commander Giotto about that, back to the fight now, focus Jim_ ), tumble to the ground and roll away from the enemy.

Look around, spot the enemy ( _north-northwest, ten paces; west, seven paces; east, twenty paces why is that guy so far away, which one is he, never mind isn't important focus on what is Jim, not what should be_), rush towards the first one. Tumble, slide, twist, kick out. Broken kneecap, disabled. Rushed from the side, twist to break the grip on him, grab the shirt, fling across the room ( _this is the same one I threw earlier finish him don't just keep throwing him Jim, you don't have the choice to be merciful in a fighting simulation_ ), follow behind. Knife out, stab in the underarm, enemy is bleeding out, sheathe the knife, now for the last one.

The last one found him. Leap away before he can grab hold, flip behind him, grab his head, twist, broken neck, done.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.  _Whoosh_.

Two people, take them on barehanded this time, no knife, phaser, or katana. Lunge forward, tackle the first opponent ( _keep your senses extended, don't let the other one catch you unaware, remember to always expect the unexpected_ ), dislocate arm, other arm twisted to grab his throat, break elbow, done. Other opponent behind him, hands on chest of disabled opponent, propel into the air, flip, twist, look around, rush forward. Shoulder into stomach, flip enemy over body, done. Do not wait for enemy to get up on their own ( _always expect the worst, never let your enemy take you by surprise, never underestimate your opponent even if they are nowhere near as competent as you are, never corner your opponent, a cornered person is desperate, desperation drives people harder than they can go on their own_ ), grab the arms, twist them behind the back, yank them out of their sockets. Disabled.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.  _Whoosh_.

Katana! Do not be caught unaware, grab your own, push the extend button, done, just in time enemy here, and block. Dance back, rush forward, lunge, blocked. Dance to the side, kick out ( _always fight dirty Jim, your enemy won't be expecting tricks and you can use that to your advantage, always keep your enemy on their toes, never give an inch unless it is necessary to make them think they can win against you_ ) lunge, got the side, not enough to disable or kill but will weaken opponent. Dodge, block, trip enemy, good, back once more. Lunge to the side, blocked, slide, lunge straight, blocked, block, lunge, block, lunge ( _dammit Jim you tripped over your own feet catch yourself before you finish falling_ ) handstand, push into the air, flip behind enemy, now's your chance, lunge, got him!

Katana away. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.  _Whoosh_.

* * *

Spock could not stop himself from being completely and wholly astonished. Jim had taken on ten opponents already and was still going strong. He was clearly in some sort of trance as he fought, his breathing deep and even, always using exactly as much force as was needed and never doing an iota more work than was necessary. The entire time he had been twisting, turning, flipping, tumbling; mixing up his acrobatic moves with more standard moves in ways that somehow turned him into a graceful fighting (and  _killing_ ) machine.

Now he was up against four enemies.  _What will he do now_?

He flipped over the mob attacking him and began methodically disabling them one after another. A broken leg here, two broken arms there, broken kneecap, oh that enemy got back up again; now what would Jim do? He broke the other kneecap and danced to the side to avoid getting knifed in the stomach, before twisting around, sliding behind his enemy, breaking the arm with the weapon and dislocating the other arm.

_This is utterly astonishing._  He wondered exactly how many teachers Jim had had. He also wondered how much effort it was taking Jim to only disable so often. He could easily just kill the opponents and get it over with – and to begin with, in the training simulations that Jim made mandatory for all crew members that might go on away missions after talking to Commander Giotto, he had done that, not stopping at disabling his opponents when he couldn't keep them from beginning fights, but their Security Chief had given Jim several public dressing downs over that, and it seemed he was taking those to heart.

The next opponent was a martial artist, and Jim correspondingly slid into a ready stance and began attacking. This time it was not a fight to disable or kill as rapidly as possible, this time he was – well, not really showing  _off_ , but showing what he was capable of doing. Blocking, attacking, redirecting, flipping, tumbling, twisting, dodging. Then it became a full frontal assault and ended with a broken neck for his enemy.

Another single enemy, this one with a spear. Amazingly, Jim managed to counter the reach the spear gave his enemy, knocking the weapon aside and subduing the enemy with a burst of phaser fire.

After an hour and a half had passed, the simulation was over. Jim had fought and beaten exactly thirty seven opponents during this time, and when he finally finished, he was only just beginning to breathe more heavily. When he exited from the shower room, Spock approached him and asked incredulously, "How long can you fight before tiring yourself out, Jim?"

His friend and Captain gave him a sideways look and shrugged, "I was in the middle of a mob for five hours once, and I was kinda tired out by then, but I'll admit, except for once when I was way beyond drunk – the night Pike recruited me for Starfleet, in fact – I've never been overextended, and that time I only was overextended because I let myself take a beating. My first fighting lessons came with a guy who was a professional martial artist and he taught me how to naturally slide into a trance state where I observed and examined everything going on around me, and while I'm in that state I'm pretty tireless. If you keep breathing evenly and use the minimum amount of effort it takes to make each movement you use, fighting becomes pretty easy and kind of fun. Part of the reason I got beat up so badly before Pike found me was because my opponents were weaker than I was and I couldn't actually fight them all out or somebody would have been severely hurt, and it wouldn't have been me. Back then I didn't have the restraint that I have now."

Spock raised his eyebrow eloquently. Jim laughed and grinned at him, sending him a friendly wink. "Exactly, my good Vulcan. The choice was get beaten up or turn the bar into a slaughterhouse, so I chose getting beaten up. Cupcake and his cronies weren't worth getting arrested over."

That caused Spock to suppress a smirk, which made Jim glance at him warily, "What's so funny?"

"Just that the man you call "Cupcake" and five of his contemporaries from the Security forces were watching you fight. When they left, they were trying to decide who would be asking Security Chief Giotto to see if you would be available to spar with them. I do believe that they were rather impressed, just as I was."

Then he made a thoughtful noise and added on, "Well, more than simply "rather" impressed. What you managed was nothing short of astonishing. I should like to spar against you some time. I assume you were taught how to fight against opponents who are stronger than you are?"

Jim nodded. "Yeah. One of the first things I learned, as I was just a scrawny ten year old when I began learning how to fight on Tarsus IV. Those lessons saved my skin more times than I can count."

That made sense. "Well, it seems to me like now would be a good time to eat." Before Jim's stomach started attacking his spine in protest for being empty when its owner had expended so much energy.

Jim laughed, "Good idea! Let's head out then."


	8. Chapter 8

"The point," Jim said, "Is to make it look  _effortless_. The reason you do this is because doing so more often than not pisses your opponent off, which makes it, him, or her reckless. Watch."

He beckoned towards Cupcake, who lunged for him. Then he carefully manipulated the off-balance man so that he fell forward even as it appeared to both himself and other people like Jim was simply carelessly brushing Cupcake aside. The larger man fell, and Jim turned towards him, "Now, what is your first instinct, Cupcake?"

He was given a glare that could boil water as Cupcake (his name was actually Hendorff, but over time he'd become far more at ease with having a nickname given to him by his Captain, especially as Commander Giotto, their Security Chief, respected him for not complaining at that kind of nickname) said, "To get back up again, rush you, and pound your face into the floor. But that would just get me brushed aside again, or something worse, wouldn't it, sir?"

Jim nodded, "Exactly. So, you see, there are  _two_  lessons here for you guys to learn. Number one is how to use fighting to your advantage, and number two is for how to keep your calm and think critically during a fight, which could be the thing that lets you take advantage of your opponent's weaknesses and strengths even when they are a better fighter than you are, which some of them – inevitably – will be. As amazing as our Security Chief's simulations are, some things are best learned outside of training sims and in a more structured environment."

"Like how you made me think you were just some punk who didn't give a shit?"

Jim nodded again, but added, "However, that was deliberate so you would underestimate me and not keep challenging me to fights that I would constantly have to hold back on. You do  _not_  want to do that in most cases unless you are  _beyond_  outmatched and you know it – that gives you a chance to regroup once you are captured and try to escape."

The group of about seventy people around him erupted in a susurrus of agreement, and he smiled. Cupcake and his pals had told Sergeant Giotto about Jim's little performance for Spock, and gotten him to agree that Jim should use some of his training time to give them lessons in a couple different types of fighting. This was to happen in groups of no more than seventy students at a time, with assistants who knew the fighting styles when possible. They all already had the basic hand-to-hand everybody learned in the Academy in various levels of talent, but now it was time for more specified lessons in fighting. The first being a class in "how to use your enemies' anger to your advantage," which was something that he firmly believed would be needed frequently.

"Line up, ranks of ten, Cupcake, you stay here with me to provide a body for me to position."

He needed to make sure that they had their balance spread evenly so they could handle the bulk of a body even up to three times larger than their own. Let the preparation begin!

* * *

 

Jim towelled off his hair vigorously, stepping from the shower whilst stretching his left arm into the air. A hot shower had been just the ticket after that surprisingly intensive lesson. He hadn't realised that teaching would be so exhausting, honestly. Once his hair was just a bit damp, he threw his towel in the chute and proceeded to get dressed. When he was done, he headed out to one of the Rec rooms to grab something to eat. He'd skipped lunch to prepare for this lesson – he never did intensive work of any kind on a full stomach, only eating very light meals of things like fruit or soup and bread, and he'd known better than to eat a full meal before teaching a bunch of Security how to fight dirty. So now he was famished, his stomach holding his spine hostage in a demand for nutrition.

When he finally got to Rec room four, it was as empty as he had expected, so he went to a replicator and got some chunky stew and a BLT. The smell was heavenly as he sat down and began to eat, thinking about the past week.

Some new step had been taken between him and Spock, he suspected the night after their not-so-little adventure with Charlie. There was a new sense of relaxation about his First Officer, and he seemed far more comfortable in Jim's presence. Jim supposed that was because Spock had admired (or maybe respected?) Jim and now knew that Jim admired – quite a bit more than admired, honestly, not that Spock was aware of it – him back. There was no imbalance there now, and him showing Spock his gratitude had proven that to Spock. However, Spock had also been more thoughtful – and not necessarily in a good way – which made Jim wonder what his First Officer and best friend wanted to bring up.

"Jim?"

Well, speak of the devil! Jim smiled and looked up at Spock, "Hey there, Spock. How're you?"

Spock sat down and tilted his head slightly, "I am well, Jim. How are you? Did your lesson go adequately?"

He nodded, "Yeah, it went great! We've got a quick group of Security volunteering for this. They already moved past simple forms and to partnered attacks and blocks. And they're picking up the mental aspect as well as the physical part, thinking about  _why_  they are doing this and  _why_  it works. I'm very proud of them."

Spock tilted his head again, commenting, "As well you should be, Jim. It takes effort and hard work to change one's outlook on something so integral."

He had to smile at that. Spock had the right of it, of course. They were all working insanely hard to get these lessons down pat  _before_  they desperately needed them on a mission. To be completely prepared for the eventuality that they would  _have_  to use the information they were being given and taught. So he agreed with Spock, a simple, "Very true."

He did have to wonder what had made Spock seek him out, however. He was working Gamma shift today, so they would normally not meet until tomorrow, when Jim was back on Alpha shift. Granted, it wasn't a  _problem_  – Jim was rather pleased, in fact, that Spock was seeking him out on his day off (unfortunately, even though he made sure everybody else had a day off, Jim rarely took one for himself, he just assigned himself to Gamma instead, after all, it wasn't like he slept well even on the best of nights). It meant that he wanted to spend time together as much as Jim did. Surprisingly enough, his question confirmed that. "I was wondering if you would perhaps be open to another game of chess, Jim? I understand that we are to meet tomorrow, but it is not, after all, as if we have a precise schedule set."

Jim smiled, "Hey, I'd love to! Any time you wanna play or just spend time together, all you have to do is ask. Unless I am having a  _really_  bad day and seriously need to be alone, you can be guaranteed I won't turn you down. You're my friend, Spock, the closest one I have, and I want to spend as much time together as I can, so long as it doesn't interfere with anything else, which I know it won't – you're thoughtful like that."

That caused Spock to almost-smile at him, and in return he gave off one of his own bright and sincere smiles – no fake ones for Spock, he would read right through them – pleased beyond belief that their friendship was progressing so very well right now.


	9. The Naked Time

**A/N:**  Wooo It's time for another episode! I just wanna say thanks a  _ton_  for all of the lovely feedback I've gotten. It really makes my day! I hope you all enjoy  _The Naked Time_ ; things go a bit better than they do in canon thanks to certain events but don't worry - they didn't go as well as they seem, which gets touched on in a couple chapters. :D

* * *

**The Naked Time**

Spock looked around the frozen base, determination mingling with uncertainty as he observed the dead, frozen woman felled at her post. Their mission was seemingly simple, but in actuality, incredibly difficult – far more difficult than the mission with Charlie three weeks ago had been: stay in tight orbit of planet Psi 2000, observe its death, and pick up the crew from the scientific base on the planet. Only, Spock had a sinking feeling that the crew would be long dead. They hadn't reported to Starfleet for months now, and he had had a disquieting certainty that they were dead even before he had come down to see for himself.

He turned to Tormolen, who was the only other member of the landing party, "Check out the life support systems."

Tormolen nodded underneath his biosuit and left the room, while Spock looked around. The biosuit did not protect them from airborne diseases, but that was what the scanners on the ship were for: detecting that kind of thing before they headed down. Of course, they didn't always work fully and properly, but it severely curtailed the likelihood of illness or death. He saw a form lying on the ground through a doorway and walked over, frowning as he crouched beside it – her, this one was a female like the first body – and scanned the area with a tricorder. He shuddered at the results – this woman had been strangled to death. He had almost done that to Jim – he could not imagine Jim lying somewhere, not breathing or moving, not even existing beyond an empty shell, all because of Spock. The idea was completely, totally unacceptable – utterly abhorrent – and he forcibly rejected it, controlling his breathing and ignoring his understandable unease.

Tormolen entered the room again and said, "All life support systems were off, Commander sir."

He had thought as much. Time to be thorough, even though he was loathe to expose anybody else to his own disquieting brand of thoughts, "This woman was strangled."

That sent a sharp spike of unease through the air, coming from Tormolen, and he gave the other man an equally sharp look. Thankfully, the look seemed to steady him, and he reported, "The other four are back there, sir. All dead."

"Was the engineer at his post?"

That got him a nod, "Yes, sir. He was just… frozen there like he didn't even  _care_. Seeing that was just  _weird_. Scotty would never do something like that."

Spock would have sighed if it were Jim here with him, but it wasn't Jim here with him so he just steadily asked, "The rest?"

"Well, better look for yourself, Commander Spock. One man was taking a shower fully clothed."

He nodded and left to observe. He would have to report this to the Captain as fully – but succinctly – as possible.

* * *

Joe Tormolen watched Commander Spock leave with a sigh of relief. He was good at reading people, and he hadn't liked how tense the Commander had been, crouched over the body of that woman. Everybody on board knew that Commander Spock and Captain Kirk were incredibly good friends by now, for all they had hated each other before Nero happened. Joe had no doubt whatsoever that the Commander had been thinking about how he had almost killed the Captain, when he had stumbled across the dead woman and found out how she died.

Sighing, Joe walked into the first room they had entered and began messing with his tricorder. Damn. His nose itched.  _Don't scratch, don't scratch, don't scratch._

Dammit! This was worse than feeling like you were about to sneeze and then being unable to sneeze! He finally took his glove off and scratched the itch, sighing with relief. Then he thoughtlessly crouched down to examine the underside of the control table, bracing his hand on the side of the table. After a minute or so, the cold got to his hand and he pulled it away, scolding himself for forgetting to put his glove back on before he did this. He was lucky his hand had only gotten cold. He put his glove back on, and just in time, too, as Commander Spock came back into the room, saying, "Be certain we expose ourselves to nothing."

He turned to his comm unit and said, "Spock here. Do you read,  _Enterprise_?"

The Captain responded, "Kirk, affirmative."

Joe waited patiently as Spock informed the Captain, "All station personnel are dead, Captain. Not all of them naturally – one of them was strangled to death, but the others seem to have frozen in their positions, be it standing or seated."

He could almost  _hear_  the Captain's frown and had to smile a bit. Captain Kirk was incredibly expressive, compared to Commander Spock's being held back. They balanced each other out very well. "Any ideas on what happened to cause it, Spock?"

The Commander shook his head, "Negative, Captain. It's like nothing we've ever seen before."

It was time to beam out.

* * *

Jim idly watched his people work on the Bridge, shuffling the various data cards in his hand as he waited for confirmation that his First Officer and his assistant were beamed back up from the planet and safe on the ship. He shuffled the data cards again and placed two in his Command chair, reading his padd to confirm the changes he wanted to preview for their orbit around this planet. His in-chair comm unit beeped at him and he answered it, "Kirk here."

Scotty's voice filtered through the comm unit, "Spock and Tormolen are back aboard, sir. We're holdin' 'em in the chamber for decontamination."

He nodded and added, "Better have Medical look them over too, Scotty. We can't possibly be too careful out here with such a precarious position by the planet. Tell Spock I'll meet him there in ten minutes. Kirk out."

He watched the readings for another couple minutes before heading out the doors to walk to Sickbay.

* * *

Spock watched carefully as Tormolen was examined by McCoy, the readings all coming out completely normal. "You're fine, Joe, hop on down from there."

They tilted the biobed he had been lying on and Tormolen stepped down to the ground, Spock replacing him on the biobed before McCoy tilted it to lie back once more. "Alright Spock, let's get this job over with. Well… Your pulse is two hundred and forty two, your blood pressure is practically non-existent – that is, assuming you call that green…  _sludge_  in your veins blood."

Spock raised himself up to rest on his forearms as he replied, "The readings are perfectly normal for me, Doctor, thank you. And as for my anatomy being different from yours, I am  _perfectly_  delighted."

He raised his eyebrow at that and he saw McCoy's lips quirk into a near-smile from his teasing prod. He and McCoy might never truly see eye to eye but Spock could at least make sure that McCoy had a reason besides his friendship with Jim to keep Spock alive. Jim entered the room then, and Spock greeted him as he got up and stood beside the bed, "Captain."

Jim turned to McCoy after a smile and a nod towards Spock, asking, "How are they, Bones?"

"They're fine, Jim, even the hobgoblin here."

Tormolen, however, did not look or feel fine. He was rubbing his arm uneasily, and his emotions were disturbed enough for Spock to feel them from across the room. That wasn't a good sign – maybe he should not have brought Tormolen down with him, although at the time he had thought the man to be ideal for the job because he was usually so steady and emotionally stable – occasionally self-doubting, but not like this. He confirmed that with his words, speaking to Jim, "It was terrible, Captain, just terrible! They were just  _sitting_ , like they didn't care. Whatever was happening down there, they just  _didn't care_. I keep wondering…"

Jim finished his thought, "You keep wondering if man was meant to be out here. You keep wondering, you keep signing on."

That caused Tormolen to give off a slight chuckle and smile. All cadets went on at least one training cruise to make sure they could handle being in the black. Usually it was two or three before they got a more permanent assignment after graduation. Then he turned to Spock, "Spock? Any idea of what happened down there? Or are you as in the dark about this as the rest of us are?"

He was teasing at the last, and Spock simply raised his eyebrow, hands resting on the small of his back as he responded, "I am indeed as "in the dark" about this as you are, Captain. The circumstances were quite bizarre, however our data cards and the ones we retrieved from the station may show us something that will give us a hint."

Tormolen's brief respite seemed to be over, as he muttered, "Six dead. Six people dead."

The Captain wisely suggested, "You'd better get some rest, Joe. Set up those cards, Spock. We'll see if the answers are there."

Spock nodded and they left the room.

* * *

Joe rubbed his palm against his side again, then his fingers against his palm, before looking dully at his hand, twisting it this way and that. It felt… wet. Sweaty, but cold. Strange.  _He_  felt strange, too. How odd. He could usually handle stuff like this. He'd been one of the most useful crewmen on his second training cruise after they had gotten attacked by Orion pirates; it wasn't as if he'd never seen people dead before. Sighing, he left the room and headed back to his quarters.

* * *

Jim watched the screen in the briefing room intently, examining the recorded images on it carefully. It was distressing, the loss of an entire team of researchers, but he couldn't let that affect his thinking. Spock motioned to the screen and stated, "Next card, please."

Janice handed him the next data card, with a steady, "Spectro-analysis card, sir."

Spock put the card in and another, different image showed on the screen, thorough and steady. "Thank you."

Jim mused to himself, before deciding that the whole group deserved to hear what he had to say. "It's almost as if they were irrational, even drugged. An engineer sitting there, apparently oblivious to everything. A woman strangled to death – right in front of another researcher. A crewman with a phaser in his hand… Almost like nothing important was happening around them except for their own worries and thoughts, even as they were freezing to death."

Spock added to this, "He'd used the computer room as if it were an amusement gallery, Captain."

He nodded thoughtfully before continuing. "And a fully clothed man frozen to death in a shower. If the image wasn't so ugly, it would be  _ridiculous_ , even laughable. Not even a theory, guys?"

Bones spoke up, "Definitely not drugs or intoxication. The bio-analysis on the cards proves that conclusively."

Then it was Spock's turn to muse a bit, as he thoughtfully stated, "It could be some form of space madness we've never heard of, but it would  _have_  to be caused by something. It would have to be instigated, triggered by something. and our spectro readings showed no contamination whatsoever, no unusual elements present."

"Or at least none your tricorders could register." Scotty pointed out.

Spock nodded his head in agreement, "Instruments register only those things they are designed to register, as you well know. Space, however, still contains infinite unknowns."

That raised an important question. "Look, guys. Starfleet needs the  _closest possible_  measurement of the breakup of this planet. In order to do this we need to keep the  _Enterprise_  in a critically tight orbit. So I have to ask: could what happened down there to those people create  _any_  unusual danger to this vessel and crew?"

There was a thoughtful silence, before Spock commented, "We  _will_  need top efficiency, Captain. It will be a tricky orbit. When the planet begins to go, there will likely be drastic changes in gravity, mass, magnetic fields, and other variables."

More inflection from Spock around Bones and Scotty! The first time wasn't much of a surprise, but twice in one conversation was a big step forward. He was loosening up more around them. However, that seemed to be the only thing anybody had to say. Jim sighed and thought,  _hard_. He had a dilemma on his hands. On the one hand, they had nothing to go on, and it wasn't their fault. But on the other hand, he was frustrated as all hell and  _needed_  more information. The situation they were in was perilously dangerous. Finally, he spoke. "Guys, the purpose of a briefing is to get answers based on all of our abilities and experience. In a critical orbit, there is  _no time for surprises._ "

Oh, but Scotty's answer was  _great_. "Well, unless you people on the Bridge start takin' showers with your clothes on, my engines can pull us out of anythin'. We'll be warping out within half a second of gettin' your command."

The comm unit embedded in the table went off, and Jim answered it, still smiling at Scotty's rejoinder. He'd needed that bit of amusement. "Kirk here."

"Scanners report a sudden four degree shift in the planet's magnetic field, Captain. There's also a change in mass, sir."

He looked over at Spock, who commented, "It's beginning. Those are unusually rapid shifts."

That made Jim nod and respond back, "We're on our way, Uhura."

Then he smiled over at Scotty, "I'll hold you to that half second, Scotty."

* * *

Joe Tormolen discontentedly grabbed his meal from the replicator, thoughts madly swirling around in his head. Six people dead. Just two days ago he had seen six people dead at their posts. They didn't belong here.  _He_  didn't belong here. His friends Sulu and Riley entered the room, discussing something, but Joey didn't care, wasn't paying attention even as their conversation filtered through his ears. What was he  _doing_  out here?!

They were talking about fencing. Sulu defending it as Riley questioned the practise.  _Good. We should question_ _everything_ _. Why are we even here_?

A hand touched his arm, shaking it lightly, and he exploded, rage and fear swallowing his mind as rational thought became swept away. "Get off me! You don't rank me and you don't have pointed ears, so just get off my back! Leave me alone!"

He was barely listening as Sulu asked, "What's with him?" of Riley.

Joey answered even though Sulu hadn't asked him, "Nothing's wrong!"

He didn't pay attention as Lieutenant Uhura's voice came in over the comm unit in the Rec room they were in, he didn't really pay attention to Sulu asking if he was alright now, he didn't care that they were leaving. All he cared about was that his thoughts were bursting out of his head through his mouth. Everybody needed to hear them. "We're all a bunch of hypocrites! Sticking our noses into something that we've got no business messing with! What the hell are we doing out here anyway!"

He ignored Sulu and Riley, staring at the air in front of his face as he continued, not caring that everybody was watching him now. Fear, rage, pain, itching, itching, why did it feel like his hand was wet still! "We bring pain and trouble with us, leave men and women  _stuck_  out on freezing planets until they die! What're we doing out here in space?! Good?  _What_  good!? We're  _polluting_  it. Destroying it! We've got no business being out here.  _No_ _business_!"

Sulu and Riley were trying to talk to him, but he stared down at the butter knife. He could do that. Just… end it all. Right here. Right now. He picked it up and thrust it forward to make sure that Riley and Sulu were far enough away. They couldn't be allowed to interfere. "If a man was supposed to fly, he'd have wings! If he was supposed to be out in space, he wouldn't need air to breathe, wouldn't need life support systems to keep him from freezing to death."

Ha! They wanted him to put the knife down. As if he would do that! No, he was going to end this, as soon as possible. "We don't belong here. It's not ours. Not ours. Destroying and watching."

He turned the knife towards his stomach, "We don't belong.  _I_  don't belong. Six people died down there. What did  _I_  do to deserve to live?"

Riley grabbed his arm before he could finish the stabbing motion he was making, and he tried to jerk away, tried unsuccessfully to get out of his friend's grip. Then Sulu came and grabbed his other arm so he couldn't transfer the knife. Idiots! Didn't they see?! They didn't deserve to live here!  _He_  didn't deserve to live! All he had to do to end it was just  _die_!

He tripped Riley and they all fell, the knife biting deep into his flesh even as he hit the ground with all of his weight. Sulu rolled him over with the help of Riley, and he stared at his hand as it came away from his stomach with blood on it. That was good. That was it, right? It was over now? He could just die now, right?

* * *

"Relative gravity increasing, sir."

Jim watched the screen carefully as he responded absently, "Compensate, Riley."

He barely heard the "Yes, sir."

He watched for a moment more before Sulu informed him, "The magnetic field is continuing to shift, sir. The planet is continuing to shift in mass."

"Spock?" he asked. He needed his First Officer's reassurance right now – the situation on board was creeping him out and making him nervous, his instincts going haywire. Something bad was happening, he just knew it. Sulu and Riley (who was substituting for Chekov, who was down in Engineering with Scotty) seemed to feel it as well, both of them flexing or rubbing their hands occasionally.

Spock had just come by to stand next to the Command chair, and easily rested his hand on the back of it as Jim looked at him and he met Jim's gaze, his posture, voice, and eyes radiating a comforting steadiness. He could rely on Spock to keep him from breaking under any kind of pressure. This was nothing. He could handle it, even if everybody went crazy, because either Bones or Spock would fix it. "All scanning stations are manned and all of our recorders are functioning, Captain."

He nodded and Riley said, "Our orbit is steady now, Captain."

Spock was the one to respond to that, his voice thoughtful and intrigued (although probably only sounding that way to Jim, who was becoming a master at reading Spock in many different ways) as he studied the screen. "Obviously, this planet is condensing more rapidly than expected, Jim. This will be a valuable study. We just might be seeing Earth's distant future."

If the situation weren't so tense he would have internally celebrated. Spock called him Jim while they were on duty! However, instead Jim just looked at him quizzically and Spock stated, "Before its sun went dark, this planet was remarkably similar to Earth, Captain."

That made Jim roll his eyes slightly and quirk a small smile as Spock left to go back to his station and Sulu reported, "The helm is answering nicely, sir."

"Good."

For a couple of minutes, he just gazed at the planet, before Uhura's voice registered, "Communication's status, Captain."

He went over and checked it over, flicking through the information on the padd before nodding firmly to her. "Good job, thank you. Keep it up, Uhura. You're the best we've got at this so we need all your effort. You're doing great so far, doll."

That was his new little nickname for Uhura, brought about by Jim unintentionally commenting that Uhura was so beautiful she could be a doll, in response to her asking why almost everybody – male and female alike – flirted with her. The other Command crew did it teasingly, but even Jim, Pavel, and Hikaru thought she was the most beautiful woman they had ever seen, and they all swung the other way – Hikaru was married to a doctor on Earth (Ben was pretty awesome), Pavel was so in love with Scotty that it was adorably ridiculous, and Jim himself had Spock whenever the other man was ready. Jim hadn't asked Spock about Uhura but he figured he'd probably get an agreement – they  _had_  dated, after all. Luckily for Jim, he himself was a  _guy_  and therefore would not have to try to compete with her. He would fail miserably if he had to do that.

Uhura rolled her eyes and lightly slapped his arm, "Oh, go get out of here, you flatterer."

Jim was about to head back to his Command chair when he noticed Spock tilting his head out of his peripheral vision and went over to his station, curious as to what it was. Then he realised: the records! This might explain why Joe went so off! The Joey he knew was  _not_  like that! "Tormolen's records?"

Spock nodded, and Jim bent over the terminal so he could read them. Spock added, "Psychiatric file and personality quotients."

Yes! That was just what he needed to see! "Was he trying to kill himself?"

He didn't want to know, but he had to ask. Just because you didn't want something absolutely did  _not_  mean that it was not necessary for you to have in order to operate things as smoothly as possible. If Joey had been suicidal and Jim had never noticed it, then other people could be in the same situation, just waiting for a disturbing mission to break their psyches. That was unacceptable. They were the  _best_ , dammit!

This time Spock shook his head, "It's doubtful that he actually meant to do it, that he would have gone through with it in the end. He was… confused. Self-tortured."

That made Jim look up, hating it but seeing it there anyway. It was something that developed just after the mission, based on the observation of all forty three people in that particular Rec room. But before this incident, just two days ago, he had exhibited no signs of anything like that. "That  _seriously_  does not sound like the Joey I know, and I talked to Hikaru; he was stunned that Joey broke like this too. Kevin was the same as well. And now Kevin and Hikaru are both of them acting just a  _little_  off, just a  _bit_  different. Something suspicious is going on, Spock, and we need to get to the bottom of it, one way or another, because if we don't fix something like this on a mission as dangerous as this, we will be destroyed just like that planet is."

Spock nodded, "Indeed Captain, I was thinking the same thing: he did occasionally experience self-doubt, but what puzzled me was what brought it to the surface so suddenly and with so much force."

Oh good! He had (probably stupidly) been worried he would have to convince Spock, when most of what he had to go on was a gut feeling with just a bit, a smattering, of evidence. "We'll have Bones get some samples, comm him when he's out of surgery."

Spock lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head forward slightly, "Aye, Captain."

Something was wrong, and they had to figure it out.

* * *

James Tiberius Kirk was tied in a knot, headachey, and nauseous. He'd had the feeling that the sword of Damocles was going to drop at any second now and instead of killing him, it would descend things into chaos the moment it hit – the planet was becoming exceedingly unstable now (Riley had been slow to respond to a gravity increase and Jim had had to do the compensation himself. He hated that they needed Chekov in Engineering right now – he would much rather have his plucky Russian navigator here than someone that had recently been traumatised by seeing his friend stab himself, no matter how protective Jim was over Kevin because they had been on Tarsus IV together), and the atmosphere on the bridge was getting tenser since they decided to see about Joe Tormolen. Something  _bad_  was about to happen, and the moment he heard Bones' voice the feeling broke over him. This was it. "McCoy here. Captain Kirk to Sickbay."

"Shit!"

Jim stood up and walked over to Spock, passing by Uhura and saying, "Uhura, monitor communications. Tell Bones I'll be there as soon as possible."

Then he arrived at Spock, who informed him, "Planet breakup is imminent, Captain. It is shrinking in size at an increasing rate. As the planet continues to shrink in size, its surface moves away from us."

Thoughtfully, Jim commented, "Forcing us to spiral down in order to maintain the same distance from it so our recordings are smooth."

"Exactly. We must be prepared to respond instantly to any sudden change."

Jim nodded firmly and moved over to his chair, pressing the comm button on it. "Engine room from Bridge."

Scotty's voice filtered onto the Bridge, his thick brogue comforting Jim for some odd reason, "Scott here, Cap'n."

Jim relayed his orders, "Tie into the helm, Scotty. If we should call for power, we'll want it fast."

"Aye, that's no problem, sir. You'll have it."

He turned to Spock, who let him know, "The rate of compaction seems constant right now, Captain."

Jim nodded tensely, "Alright then, I'll go see what Bones wants and pray it isn't a disaster. Keep me informed of any changes, Spock."

His First Officer nodded and turned back to his station as Jim left the room, "Understood, Captain."

* * *

That gut feeling had been right. This whole situation just went to hell. Joey was dead, and Jim had to get results better than what he had gotten so far. Time to lead Bones in the right direction – after he finished ranting, that is. "Dammit, Jim! The intestinal damage was  _not_  that severe! I got to him in  _plenty_  of time! The only reason he died," Bones said challengingly, "is that he gave up. He didn't want to live."

Jim injected a scolding tone into his voice and said, "That's a supposition, Bones. Not a fact."

_Come on, Bones. Push it._  "Maybe. I doubt it, though, Jim. I've lost patients before, but not like that. Not Joe's kind. That kind of man does  _not_  just give up!"

Now it was time to sow the seeds. "Coincidence? Maybe…"

It worked! Bones glared at him, accusingly asking, "You mean that Joe was down on the planet's surface and you're gonna ask me if it's connected. If maybe something  _did this_  to him."

So, he answered honestly, shrugging carelessly, "That's exactly what I was going to ask. We need more information."

This time Bones sighed, slumping against the biobed, "Jim, he was decontaminated. He's been medically checked. We've run every test we know for every  _thing_  we know of. I can't get you more information than that!"

He hated it, but he had to push it now. It was an absolute necessity. "That's not good enough, Bones."

He got a glare for that, before Bones said sharply, "Well we're doin' everything that's possible!"

Jim watched him evenly, stating firmly, "I want the  _impossible_  too."

He had work to do.

* * *

Something wasn't right. The ship was not responding properly. Spock looked up from his viewfinder only to see that Sulu was not at the helm where he should be. He grabbed one of the Ensigns manning a terminal, one who he knew could manage the helm – if only barely – in Sulu's place. Whatever had happened to Tormolen had happened to Sulu, and who knew how many others by now? "Take over here, Ensign Rand."

The Ensign nodded, "Yes sir."

Spock turned to Riley, demanding, "Where is Sulu, Riley? Why isn't he at his station?"

Riley swung his arm out and grinned widely, causing Spock to suppress a sigh. Damn. He would have to get another Ensign to man the navigation console, which one of them would be good enough? "Have no fear, O'Riley's here! One Irishman is worth ten  _thousand_  of you!"

Spock steadily pulled the man out of his seat, making sure to only touch his sleeve – just in case. Who knew how this…  _thing_  was spreading. "You are relieved, Riley."

Finally, he came to a decision, "Lieutenant Uhura, take over this station."

Nyota was gratifyingly swift, as she responded, "Yes, sir."

Meanwhile, Spock carefully dragged Riley away, and towards the doors to the Bridge. He was most displeased with Riley's comment of, "Now that's what I like! Let the women do the work too! Universal suffrage!"

Spock sternly commanded, "Report to Sickbay, Riley. Now."

If the universe had any reasoning capacity in this bout of insanity, Riley would obey a command… "Sickbay? That's exactly where I was heading, sir!"

Good. Spock did not need any more of this right now. He had a job to do, and something both mysterious and potentially dangerous was happening to the ship right now. Sighing, he activated his comm unit and patched to Security. "Security. Riley is headed to Sickbay. See to it he arrives."

Then he patched through to Jim's personal unit – no need to set the ship to panicking, he could explain it succinctly enough in person. "Captain Kirk to the Bridge, as soon as possible, please."

* * *

Kevin headed to Sickbay as ordered, but just as he was approaching the area an idea entered into his mind. Jim was an amazing Captain, but he'd always wondered what it felt like to be in command like that. Kevin knew enough about Engineering – it'd been his sub-focus at the Academy – to know that he could  _learn_  what it felt like! Smiling, he diverted away and headed in a new direction. Time to find out what being a Captain felt like!

* * *

Jim walked onto the Bridge directly following one of their navigators, and heard Spock tell the man, "Lieutenant Brent, relieve Lieutenant Uhura."

The man shifted into position and Jim walked over to the Command chair, Spock leaving it as soon as he saw Jim. He sat down and Spock leaned against the arm and back of the chair, Jim resting his arm along the edge and watching Spock intently. "What were their symptoms, Spock?"

Spock shook his head slightly, "I did not experience Sulu's departure, however Riley was – at this stage, anyway – non-violent, slightly confused, and seemed to be very pleased with himself. Just as if he were…"

He raised an eyebrow as he trailed off – Jim really appreciated that Spock was now allowing him more input, giving him more chances to prove his intelligence and cognitive ability. To begin with the half-Vulcan had only been somewhat confrontational and condescending, but time and hard work had changed that. Jim quickly connected the dots. "Irrational, or drugged. It's happening, then. Whatever happened to those researchers is happening all over again. Dammit! We do  _not_  need this right now!"

"Precisely," Spock quietly agreed. The situation wasn't easy for either of them. Joey's loss had been a deep hit.

Jim nodded; right, he had to get this contained, "Uhura, Security please."

"Done, sir."

Good. "Locate and confine both Sulu and Riley. I want every crewman who has been in contact with them taken to Sickbay, medically checked over, and confined there for the duration."

It was just a moment later that Uhura's incredulous voice came back to him, "Captain, there's a disturbance on level two, corridor three – Sulu is chasing people with his  _sword_. The  **katana**!"

Fuck! So much for  _not dangerous_. "Have him restrained and confined immediately! Get him to Sickbay and make  _sure_  he is confined, even if he has to be sedated!"

He turned back to Spock for his thoughts, which were given promptly. "Intriguing. A pattern seems to be developing. First, Tormolen. Hidden personality traits being forced to the surface. Then Riley, who seems to fancy himself a descendant of Irish kings, and now Sulu, who is at heart a swashbuckler out of Earth's eighteenth century when he is not a ninja."

Before Jim could respond, the ship lurched unsteadily and he demanded, "Report!"

Spock had fled to his station at the lurch, and would hopefully be getting him what he needed soon. "The gravity pull is still increasing, Captain. We've shifted to two percent and need to stabilise our position."

"Helmsman, stabilise position."

"Helm isn't answering to control, sir!" The response was understandably panicked.

Fuck the recordings; they'd gotten plenty so far and needed to get out of here while they still could, especially considering the epidemic that was spreading. "Then warp us out of here!"

Ensign Rand was getting even more panicked now. "No response from the engines, sir! Either of them, the impulse engines are dead too, sir!"

Spock had arrived and hit the comm unit in the helm, "Engine room, we need power!"

No response. He went to the Command chair and commed Scotty from there. "Scotty, acknowledge! Our controls are dead!"

No response again. Dammit, they didn't  _need_  this right now! He turned back to Spock, "Take her, I'll go see if I can't find out what's wrong."

Before he reached the doors, however, Sulu (he couldn't think of the man as his friend Hikaru right now – not when he was deranged) burst in and swung his katana in a sideways arc. Dammit,  _how_  had he evaded Security?!

Well, his being shirtless probably didn't help – Sulu was  _incredibly_  attractive when he was without his shirt; he always had an impressive audience for his various practises, so that was a very distracting thing. The dangerously sharp sword definitely, absolutely didn't help either. They weren't exactly trained to take on  _swordsmen_. (The universe had to be  _mad_. Here he was, out in space, Captain of a  _starship_ , and he was facing a katana on the Bridge of his  _own ship_. What. The.  _Fuck_.) "Richelieu, at last."

"Uh, right. Sulu,  _put the fucking sword away_."

Negative. All he did was raise his arm and yell out, "For honour, Queen, and France!"

Then he lunged, causing Jim to stumble away from him with a curse. Okay. Right. From now on he was keeping his own katana close to hand. Sulu began waving his sword around like it were a damned  _rapier_ , instead of a katana, which was just so ridiculous there were no  _words_  for it. Yes, Sulu also knew how to use a rapier, and had one, but he hadn't picked up one of his foils, which were overall far less dangerous than his katana. Spock approached, and Sulu recklessly waved the sword around to keep him away. Uhura approached him carefully, "Sulu, hey, give me that, okay?"

Sulu lunged for her, pulling her to his side as he exclaimed, "I'll protect you, fair maiden!"

If Uhura had been a cat, she would have had all of her fur standing on end. As it was, she bristled and pushed him away, "I don't  _think_  so!"

That distracted Sulu enough that Jim could (unfortunately, since he suspected whatever this thing going around was, it relied on skin contact – he'd be paying for this later, but he couldn't allow anybody else to get hurt: Jim could be replaced, after all, that's what the Command crew was for; all of them could fill in  _every_  Command position, even if only barely so) restrain the arm with the katana and soon Spock joined him, using the Vulcan nerve-pinch to disable Sulu. "Thanks, although I could have disabled him. You shouldn't have done that, at least one of us needed to not be exposed to this crap going around."

That gave Spock pause, and he tilted his head, "Indeed, Captain. I should have remembered that. It is, however, possible that it will not interact with Vulcan physiology."

Jim rolled his eyes, "Even though your physiology is mostly Vulcan, you still have human genetics, which means you're still vulnerable."

Then he beckoned to two of the men standing by, "Take Sulu to Sickbay and then  _stay there yourselves_ , because you might be contaminated. Be sure Bones is aware of this, understood? And don't worry," he added with a comforting smile, "Bones is the best; he'll figure out what's going wrong."

They left, and he sighed, walking back to his chair and tapping the comm. "Scotty, we need  _power_. Engine room, acknowledge!"

Riley's voice came back over the comm, in a terrible Irish accent, "This is Captain Kevin Thomas Riley of the starship  _Enterprise_. And who is this?"

Oh  _fuck no_. Their previous relationship didn't stop Jim from being wholly, utterly  _infuriated_  that Riley had taken over Engineering. "This is Captain Kirk. Get  _out_  of the engine room, Riley. Where's Scotty?"

He turned the comm to broadcast ship-wide and walked to the doors so he could keep track of what was going on while he tracked down Scotty (and Pavel) and got them to fix the problem. Riley continued on, "I've relieved Scotty of his duties. Now, attention, cooks. This is your captain speaking. I would like double portions of ice cream for the entire crew!"

Dammit, they were locked! He slammed his fists into the doors and growled, "Uhura clear it, will you? I need  _out_  of here, and I need out of here  _now_."

He ignored Riley's broadcast and his abominable singing, heading over when Spock motioned to him with a tilt of his head. "Captain, at our present rate of descent we have less than twenty minutes before we enter the planet's atmosphere."

He ran a hand through his hair, "And then promptly burn up. I know, Spock. I know."

The doors opened and he ran through them.

* * *

Scotty and Pavel, as well as a few other crewmen, most of them engineers but some of whom he recognised from Security, were waiting outside of Engineering. One of the Ensigns ran off as he arrived, instrument in hand. "How the  _fuck_  did Riley get into Engineering?"

Scotty shrugged and looked chastised, "He ran in and said you wanted us on the Bridge, sir."

Well this was a fine predicament. New rule: from now on, if Jim wanted to talk to Scotty, he would just comm him. They couldn't risk something like this happening again just because he could sometimes wait to talk to Scotty and sent someone to fetch him to let the Engineer know that he could wait if there was something more important going on. "From now on, Scotty, unless I comm you and ask for you, stay at your post. If I forget and send someone, comm me to make sure I sent them before leaving. I am  _not_  blaming you – I'm blaming myself. It was purely my fault this happened and I won't risk it happening again. Riley has shut off both helm and power. We're trapped."

Pavel bit off an exclamation and Scotty sighed, "Aye, he shut the door behind him and locked off the mechanism. Cannae get to the auxiliary, either, he's hooked everything through the main panel in there."

Then he turned to Pavel, "Get up to my office and pull the plans for this bulkhead. The only way to get that door open is to cut through to these wall circuits."

Scotty tapped the wall next to Jim as he explained why he needed the plans. Pavel was gratifyingly swift as he immediately left them with a tense, "Right."

* * *

"All decks, alert system B two. Repeat, go to alert condition Baker two. Seal off all main sections. Stand by."

Good ol' Spock. Kirk walked into the Bridge just as the alert stopped, and he looked over at Spock, who nodded to him, "More incidents being reported, Jim. We're going to seal off, see if we can't minimise the spread of…  _whatever_  this is."

"Good," he responded, turning to Uhura, "Continue the alert, Lieutenant."

She looked over at him, clearly worried. "I can't, sir! He's cut off the alert channels!"

Riley's voice came back over the comm and Jim ignored the verbal idiocy to tell Uhura, "Cut him off!"

But she couldn't, and he knew it. Riley was in control of the main power panels, which meant he controlled  _every single aspect_  of the  _Enterprise_  down there. From replicators to water temperature to engines to everything else imaginable. That was why, even though Scotty was hardly formal and often seemed like a complete drunk, nobody  _ever_  disrespected him or disparaged him. The man was the best Engineer there  _was_ – when he was only fourteen he disproved the Perera Theory and had his results published when he was fifteen; Starfleet then went crazy over recruiting him to save face from having a widely taught theory being disproved by a fourteen year old – and everybody respected the hell out of how fucking brilliant he was. Even Spock, although he didn't approve of the still that they had built and installed down there.

Uhura confirmed it, "I can't, Captain! There is just no way to do it."

He sighed and rubbed his face, "Right. If you can't, you can't. The little shit just has too much control of the situation. Don't stress too much about it, okay, Uhura? Scotty is working on it and I want you as calm as you can get right now. We need you here with us."

He didn't have to say,  _"not in Sickbay_ " because Uhura was too intelligent not to know that.

Then, without any warning, the ship jolted, flinging everybody away from where they were and all the way across the room for several – he could admit this –  _terrifying_  seconds. Fuck fuck fuck!  _Keep calm, Kirk. You can do this, and you have to stay calm, Jim. The more worried you get the worse your decisions will be because you are infected with an unknown_ _something_ _._

"Sickbay to Bridge."

_Bones_! "Hey, can you tie me in to Sickbay? Thanks."

His friend responded before Uhura could say anything, "I'm getting you, Jim. Look, can't you keep this beast level?! I'm  _trying_  to get some tests on Sulu and we have him tranquillised for that! I hate to say this, but so far there's nothing unusual in his blood stream. His body functions seem normal, too."

Right, well, Sulu wasn't the problem, Riley was. "So you don't have enough information to fix up something that can knock Riley out of it. Damn."

"No, I don't, Jim. Not until I get further on these tests. I'm working on it though, as are my nurses. We have other patients brought in by Security, and several Security here as well because of your quick thinking. Nothing like as many who have been exposed, but enough to speed up the discovery of anomalies."

Jim droned out the next announcements from Riley, although Uhura seemed pretty infuriated by them, which meant that Kevin was being sexist again. He usually kept it to himself and only dated girls that were of a "type", but he was a bit sexist in his views about what an ideal woman was like. The family Kevin had gone to after Tarsus IV had impacted his personality negatively. Unfortunately you had people like that who were on board the ship because Starfleet didn't reject people for things like that. Usually it got trained out, but some people were more resistant to training things like that out, and those people tended to stay in positions that were not super influential.

Scotty's voice filled his ears, "Engineering to Bridge. Try your helm. You'll have enough power to keep 'er stabilised."

Oh thank fuck. It wasn't everything he needed, but it was  _something_.

"Sixteen minutes left, Captain. We've stabilised but we are still spiralling down."

He must have zoned out a bit. That wasn't a good sign. It was starting.  _Breathe in. Breathe out. Stay calm, Kirk. You can do this._

"Emergency signal, Captain, from both decks four and five. Fights and disorder."

Dammit! He needed this problem  _fixed_.  _What can I do to speed up finding a cure to this shit_?

Spock! The recordings could go to hell for all he cared, there was plenty of data to work with now; they needed Spock's brilliant mind working with Bones' brilliant mind. First though, he needed to see if any progress had been made. "Get me through to Sickbay."

"No can do, Captain. He keeps switching the channels. I can't get Sickbay."

Yeah, that was it. "Okay, Spock, get to Bones. See what you can do to help him out, we need your brilliant mind on this. Oh and while you're headed out, check on Scotty first. We need that done sooner rather than later."

He was gratified when Spock left without another word, and was privately glad that Bones' nurses were all level-headed and not inclined to be emotional. Many of them were likely infected by now, and it would have been a bad thing for all of them if one of them was nursing a crush on his XO.

* * *

Spock headed towards the Sickbay after getting through with Scott, who had been working as fast as possible at cutting through the wall – normally Spock would have disapproved of cutting through without a margin for safety, but Scott had been more than aware of how little time they had to spare, and had been cutting through the wall with speed and accuracy. Pleased with this information, he entered Sickbay, looking around for Doctor McCoy. He wasn't there, but Nurse Chapel, his most senior assistant, was carefully scanning Sulu, gloved hands hovering over his body. Spock approved of the professionalism. "Where is Doctor McCoy?"

Nurse Chapel looked up from her work just long enough to confirm who he was, before returning back to her work. "He's in the lab, Mister Spock. We assumed from the beginning that this was transmitted through touch and made sure to keep our gloves on, but not all of the other nurses and aides were able to be informed. Of course, most of  _them_  were gloved as well, but not all of them."

A smirk lined her face as she continued with, "The ones who weren't wearing gloves are going to get  _punished_  by Doctor McCoy when this is over. I'm looking forward to seeing what he will do. The good Doctor is certainly both creative and vengeful."

If it had been the Captain to whom he was speaking, Spock would have allowed himself his own tiny smirk. That was indeed incredibly amusing and he wished he could see this vengeance exac- damn. It was beginning. Just barely, but that emotion was stronger than normal, and he could – again, just barely – feel despair creeping up on him. He had to keep it together. He  _would_  keep it together. As it was, he just minutely tilted his head, "I am certain that it will be highly entertaining to those of you who are more professional, as well as be a learning experience for those who were less cautious in this. Well, I will go meet him in the lab then, as the Captain needs a cure sooner rather than later and I could possibly already be infected."

No need to let her know he was undoubtedly contaminated by whatever this was. She nodded firmly, "I'll let him know you are on your way in a second, I just have to finish up with Mister Sulu here."

"Good." Spock left and began cautiously heading towards the labs, making an active attempt to be sure to avoid other people. Hopefully Jim was holding up despite the pressure.

* * *

"Dammit, get him  _out of_   _here_!"

Jim Kirk was holding onto his control by the skin of his teeth as yet another person – this one laughing madly – was escorted off of the Bridge. Fuck. He couldn't  _do_  this! Rand-the-Ensign was gone by now, and Rand-the-Yeoman had replaced him at the helm, a job which she was barely trained for but which she was nonetheless in the best position to handle, being uninfected and thus able to keep a cool head. He was back in his chair now, slumped into his hands as the stress and the pressure eroded his control. He hoped Spock was okay – despite having touched Sulu, it had been nothing like the contact Jim had had with the man, so there was every chance that he was perfectly fine right now, unless he had come into contact with somebody else who was infected.

His in-chair comm unit chimed, and Scotty's voice let him know, "We're almost done, Cap'n! You said to let you know so you could be here, so I'm doin' my duty."

He had to smile. Scotty sounded perfectly normal, and his calm was infectious. Jim had already yelled at (and then apologised to) Uhura for being unable to cut Riley off, had yelled at or about every person taken off the Bridge, and had been in general far less calm than he would rather have been. However, his cognitive and reasoning ability still held strong, as did his determination to keep it together and  _not die_. "On my way, Scotty. Uhura, get Spock here on the double, he'll take the conn from you once he gets here. Until then, I trust your competence to keep things together."

Uhura sent him a small smile and immediately bent to her task as Jim left the Bridge, swiftly making his way back down to Engineering. Sure enough, Scotty was busy prying the panel he cut into the wall out of it, and Pavel and two members of Security were with him. "Set your phasers to stun, but don't shoot unless he's armed. We need him out of there and escorted to Sickbay as soon as possible, you got that?"

He received their affirmative as Scotty plunged his hands into the open wall, fiddling with the wires until the door opened itself, at which point they all ran into the room. Riley stopped his singing and cursed, "No dance tonight," when he saw Jim, and the look on his face informed Jim that once he was cured, a private apology and explanation would be given. It was enough to make him forgive the kid already. Jim beckoned to the two Security crewmen. They pulled Riley away and escorted him out, while Scotty took the controls and began working furiously to get everything back on board.

After a few minutes his control was getting shot again and he was kept from bitching at Scotty again when Uhura commed him. "Bridge to Captain, we're entering the planet's outer atmosphere. Spock wants to know what to do."

Fuck! This was not good. In fact he would go so far as to say it was horrifically bad. "Scotty?" He asked.

Scotty looked up at him mournfully, "He turned the engines completely off, Cap'n. It'll take another half hour to get them back on line."

"We haven't got that much time left!"

"Well," Scotty said carefully, "We cannae start them up cold, mixing matter and antimatter cold will make us go up in the biggest explosion since-"

Wait! Wait a minute. Not necessarily! "That's it! We can balance our engines into a controlled  _im_ plosion! That would get us away from the planet and out to a safer position!"

"Da! I can help with that, Captain! We will need Spock's help too, to double-check the intermix formula. It is a good idea, Captain!"

Scotty had an intrigued look on his face, and Jim smiled. Work was getting done. It was dangerous but staying where they were at would be even more dangerous. "Uhura, have Spock head back to Bones to help him out, but tell him to keep his personal comm unit open to help Scotty and Chekov as well. You have the conn until I get back to the Bridge."

* * *

When Spock headed back to Sickbay, he walked in to a screaming Sulu, and raised his eyebrow as the screaming stopped. He was barely capable of controlling his reactions right now,  _despair-horror-grief-regret_  swirling around his mind until he could hardly think straight. He hoped that his help was not needed so desperately here, so that he could attempt to focus on the intermix formula for starting the engines up cold. "We did it, hobgoblin! You were right, it was the water on that planet, it acts like alcohol and contaminates everybody that comes into contact with it – spreads through perspiration. No wonder we couldn't find anything off to begin with."

"What happened?" Sulu dazedly asked. "I was on the Bridge and then – I don't remember anything else."

"You were infected, Sulu, but I can guarantee they need you back on the Bridge again, kid. Go on, you're cured and immune now. Now that you're free, Spock, will you help me with this and work to get the cure spread around the ship?"

"Affirmative, Doctor."

He requested a hypo of the cure, which surprised McCoy before the doctor peered at him and tersely nodded. He understood. Now it was time to work again.

* * *

Jim watched as the  _Enterprise_  burst away from the planet thanks to collaboration between Scotty, Pavel, and Spock, who had arrived on the Bridge with Bones, the latter sticking hypos into people as he checked up on them. They had just barely gotten through this adventure, and it was a closer brush with death than he would have liked to ever experience – but somehow, he had a feeling that this wouldn't be the last time he almost died on a mission. It sure as hell wasn't the first.


	10. Chapter 10

Jim watched the stars outside of Observation Deck C as they sped away from Psi 2000, three days in the past from when they ended this mission, which was an interesting circumstance. Right now Joey was with Spock on the planet as they began the events that brought the  _Enterprise_  to where they were at now, and their data would be sent off to Starfleet in a couple days – along with an in-depth report of all that happened to them due to the contaminated water on the planet. The deck doors opened and he waited for the person who had come in to leave him to think in peace when he heard footsteps and smiled. Ah, never mind, it was Spock – the only person who would disturb him when he was on any of the Observation decks. And the only person whom Jim was fine being disturbed by when he was in this sort of mood.

"We did it, but that was too close a call for my comfort, Spock. How many more times is everybody on this ship going to almost die because our scanners simply  _aren't good enough_? I can't accept that. Joey died, all because Starfleet didn't do enough testing before sending a research team to planet Psi 2000."

Spock was standing at his head as he rested the back of it in his linked hands, watching the stars go by as they hared off into a new part of space. "We will indeed have to be incredibly cautious, Jim. However, I do feel the need to point out that whilst Starfleet is indeed culpable, it was Tormolen's own fault as well for not being cautious enough. He had to have gotten contaminated somehow, and I doubt that it was the fault of anything except complacency and an assumption that since the planet was said to be safe, it, of course, actually  _was_  safe."

Jim frowned and nodded, "We'll need to fix that then. Make sure we treat every planet with at least some level of suspicion regardless of how our tests look. That means no assuming an uninhabited planet is actually uninhabited, that means using gloves for taking any kind of samples, that means no eating or drinking strange things, unless we are stuck on that planet due to some sort of malfunction. Even then we need to take water and rations so we don't get stranded and someone dies because the water or food on the planet is toxic and we couldn't detect that."

His First Officer sat down by his head and he looked up at the Vulcan, who nodded at him solemnly, "I am already making up lists of rules to be used on away missions, regardless of how brief they will be, for that exact purpose. They will be given to any who might go on away teams, meaning largely the Science crewmen and Security. If anyone comes on a mission who has not already been given the rules, then that will be remedied swiftly."

"Mmm, good thinking, Spock."

They lapsed into silence for several moments, Spock and Jim both watching as the stars, solar systems, and nebulae passed them by. When a particularly large nebula was covering the screen, stunning in its blue and purple glory, Spock broke the silence again, asking, "Would you take it amiss if I were to inform you that I am glad you are firmly placing the blame where it belongs this time around, instead of blaming yourself for Tormolen's death?"

Ah. Of course. No doubt Spock was remembering how he had blamed himself for the deaths of the people on board the  _Antares_ , when it had not been Jim's fault, it had been Charlie's. "No. I wouldn't – and don't – take it amiss, but you do need to understand that this will happen less often than you'll probably like."

He was watching Spock from the corner of his eye, and his friend turned to him inquiringly when he stated that, so he expounded. "I take the loss of people close to me personally, and, because it is absolutely necessary for me to run a tight command, that means just about everybody on this ship counts as being close to me."

Jim sighed, "I still – very irrationally, which I am aware of by now – feel responsible for all of my family and friends who died on Tarsus IV. I still feel as though every person who was in my care died because I was not enough – strong enough, fast enough, smart enough, etcetera. In some ways, it matters very little to me that I managed to save the lives of eight children who would have otherwise been executed. All that matters to me is that a further twenty two died despite my efforts, and that my aunt, uncle, and three cousins all died, were all executed, when I was playing at the beach. I'm just glad I hadn't been surfing, or I likely would never have touched a board again, and then I would have overworked myself into death while I was at Starfleet Academy."

He let Spock absorb this, and wondered what his friend would have to say. It was illogical and irrational for him to think this way, but he couldn't help it. It was just part of who he was. When he took responsibility for someone, he assumed responsibility for everything about them, including their lives. That was why – although there were quite a few people on board whose personalities he blatantly could not stand – he was warning Spock about this. He couldn't let the Vulcan think that this episode was how things would normally go. This time, yes, he did indeed have something else to place the blame on, but normally he took the blame solely onto himself.

Finally, Spock responded, carefully explaining his thoughts. "While it is indeed regrettable that you will forever take the blame for the loss of any person on board whom we might lose because of accident, disease, or confrontation, in a way it is also a relief. I say this because, despite being irrational, that is what makes you such a good Captain, Jim. You  _care_  about people. You take responsibility for both your actions and theirs. You get involved. It makes you an outstanding leader, and someone whom I highly respect and look up to. After experiencing your leadership, it has become clear to me that I would never be as good of a Captain as you are, because I simply hold myself back far too much to be accessible to anybody except the closest of friends. Your crew works harder and is generally more careful because you care, because they know you, because you have connected with them. That caring is what makes the difference between a  _leader_  and a  _despot_."

Trust Spock to put things into perspective like that. Of course, that had been one of the reasons that – to begin with – he had forced Spock to relinquish his command. It hadn't  _just_  been Spock Prime (Selek, whatever) informing him that it needed to happen – he had worried about the potential loss of life with someone who didn't  _care_  about his people personally in charge of their ship. Of course, by now Jim was fully aware that although Spock was reserved in how he expressed it, he  _did_  care about everybody under his command in one way or another, even though he could not  _possibly_  be said to be friends with even a significant portion of them. He  _was_ , however, friends – or getting there at least – with the Command team, and especially  _good_  friends with Jim himself and Uhura (hell, he was even managing to – somehow – relax Bones' attitude towards him, which was a fuckin'  _miracle_. Bones was  _incredibly_  pissed at the whole "marooning on Delta Vega" thing).

Jim smiled over at Spock and sighed, "Thank you, Spock. It makes me happy to know that you think so highly of me."

Then he added, more quietly but still absolutely certain that Vulcan hearing would pick it up, "I respect and admire the hell out of you, Spock, even though I doubt I express that as well as I want."

He was watching Spock as he said it, and was gratified at the affectionate look that grew in his First Officer's eyes, there for him to see clearly. He smiled softly and looked back out at the screen, humming contently. The past three days might have been bad, but right here, right now, everything was golden.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Sorry about the late update. I was manic as fuck the night before last and didn't sleep at all so I decided not to post when I wouldn't be able to check things over properly for mistakes. 

* * *

 

Calm. Calm. Calm. Spock  _had_  to stay calm, and he had to have faith in his Captain and best friend. Jim had told him that he would listen to anything Spock wished to talk about, and he was finally composed enough that he could speak about how badly the contamination from Psi 2000 had affected him. "You were right about my contact with Sulu, Jim. It  _did_  contaminate me, and the effects, which were initially somewhat mild, became overpowering and severe while I had the conn."

_Spock gripped the arms of the Command chair, briefly closing his eyes and ignoring that his knuckles were white as his body lightly trembled. He had never told his mother he loved her. She died, murdered by Nero, never having heard her son tell her how important she was to him, how much he loved and adored her. Vulcan was gone, destroyed, and his entire life had been turned upside down in moments. He was almost a murderer and still had not asked for Jim's forgiveness, which was terrible of him because Jim was his best friend and deserved so much better than Spock. He ignored the whisper that wondered why Jim meant so much to him, why his Captain affected him so deeply. He could think on that later. He had to stay in control. He had to hold out. He would not let this overcome him. It was a good thing that Jim had upset his world view or he would have been long overwhelmed by the ferocity of his emotions._

Spock was jerked out of the memory when Jim barely brushed his fingers over Spock's wrist, his emotions curious and slightly worried. Spock swallowed and nodded, "My apologies. I had a flashback. It was… unpleasant. Before I say anything about it, however, I need to thank you. I am unbelievably, deeply grateful and indebted to you, Jim, for convincing me that I could find a balance between human and Vulcan. Without the level of control I now have I would have succumbed to my emotions and been a "wreck", as you would say."

Jim blinked and flashed him a gorgeous smile, one filled with warmth and happiness and something else that Spock didn't want to inspect more closely right now. Damn, but that smile was  _vicious_  on his control.  _Think about that later. Get it out. You can trust him with this_. "I'm glad that it helped you, Spock, and I know it must have been difficult for you, which also means I am beyond proud of you for holding up under the pressure."

Spock almost-smiled at his Captain, his eyes filling with warmth as he murmured, "Thank you, Jim."

They lapsed into silence for a few moments, Jim waiting as Spock gathered himself again, before speaking slowly and softly. "At first… it was just strengthening emotions. I found something more humorous than I normally would have experienced it to be, and then I began to sense despair, followed a short time later by horror, and finally topped off with grief and regret. It… It was worse," he admitted, "than what I was experiencing right after the destruction of Vulcan. I… I never once told my mother that I loved her. She died, never having heard the words "I love you" coming from her son. She-"

He choked on a sob and took in a breath, not allowing another one, firmly suppressing his emotions. "She died, never knowing how much I loved her, adored her, needed her. All my life, she supported me, supported my decisions, and never tried to force me into any sort of mould, either human or Vulcan. I do believe she would approve of the insight you gave me, but she will never,  _ever_  get the chance to see the effects of it."

When he looked up, the sadness and sympathy in Jim's eyes was too much for him to see and keep his composure – what little he had left, anyway. He closed his eyes. He wasn't done, but this part was confessed. Now it was just waiting for a response. It didn't come immediately, which was reassuring – Jim was actually considering this before he said something. When he spoke, his voice was as soft as Spock's had been during his confession. "Spock, I don't know what it's like to have a loving biological mother, but I can promise you that I  _do_  understand this. My aunt on Tarsus IV… She was completely blatant in expressing love, comfort, and support towards me, despite having never met me before then. I never – I wasn't used to it. I didn't trust it at first. Finally I realised she  _did_  love me, and I began to trust in her and began to love her back. But I never told her. Never thanked her.

"She knew, though. They always do. Unless you really, honestly don't like your parent and vocally display it, your parent will always know that you love them, even if you never tell them. I never met your mother, but I know she was human, and I know – just. I could tell how much you loved her when you got back and she was gone. It was all over your face, Spock. Trust me.  _She knew you loved her_."

It was exactly what he needed to hear, and Jim had not-so-casually clasped Spock's wrist when he began speaking, allowing Spock to feel his reaction, to feel his regret, grief, understanding, conviction. It was strange, how much he appreciated the touch of his Captain when he couldn't bear for anyone else – not even Nyota any more – to touch him. Jim took his hand back after a moment, and Spock felt oddly bereft by the lack of his best friend's comforting emotions flowing into him. Jim seemed to read that and raised an eyebrow, "You aren't upset?"

Spock shook his head, "No, Jim. It… helps. I trust you, but humans in general are more prone to saying comforting things even if they do not mean them, and when you let me feel as you do, it is a firm reassurance that I can trust you not to lie to me. You are the first person I have met whose touch I completely welcome, because your etiquette is exquisite. You only ever use your touch to back up your words or communicate something to me that cannot be spoken aloud."

The smile he was gifted with bloomed slowly, and was sweet and endearing. He ignored the feeling – he had already resolved to look at those unusual emotions and sort them out, but not yet. Not right now. "Is there anything else, then, that you wanted to tell me, Spock?"

Spock nodded, "I… have been remiss. You have apologised to me for provoking me during the Nero incident, but I had not apologised to you for nearly choking you to death. I regret my actions, although not the situation that followed them. I was unfit for command, and you were a far better acting Captain than I could have been."

Jim's hand was resting atop his own this time, not on his wrist, as he forcefully stated, "I forgave you as soon as it was over, Spock."

That was all he had to say, but his emotions were speaking loud and clear; forgiveness, acceptance, and fondness. It took his breath away, before he managed to say, "Thank you, Jim. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Spock." Jim removed his hand again and they resumed their game, but Spock was distracted by curious thoughts. He needed to think about what Jim had become to him.


	12. Chapter 12

_What do I feel? Why do I feel it? What has Jim become to me? What is the nature of things?_

Spock meditated on his feelings, focusing his thoughts so that they only concentrated on Jim. The immediate effect was devastating, as each one of the Captain's smiles directed towards Spock flashed through his mind, being compared with the smiles – both false and real – that Jim gave to other people. Okay. When Jim smiled at him it affected him deeply but pleasantly. It made him feel warm and appreciated. Friendship explained that.

Then he focused on touch, comparing how he felt when Jim touched him – grateful, from that very first unexpected touch when he aided Spock in purging his grief. Respected – whenever Jim touched Spock he was careful with the emotions he let Spock feel, never allowing negative emotions to pass through unless it was necessary, like the brief brush of his regret and grief that simply backed up his words just yesterday. Jim didn't touch Spock often, but when he did, it was never just casual, and usually through his clothing rather than skin-to-skin – Jim read him disturbingly well, and always was there providing support to lean against, confidence in Spock, affection and trust. When other people managed to touch Spock – and even though they respected his feelings about being touched, it still happened – it made him feel unsettled and sometimes even ill.

Okay, so Jim was an exception – but for the love of Surak,  _why_?

It was soft, as he probed into himself deeply, searching for answers. Friendship explained some of this, but he even disliked it when Nyota touched him, and she was also his friend. Granted, not as good of a friend as Jim was, but still a good friend.

It was so soft that he nearly missed it – and did, several times, probing deeper and deeper into his mind and then into his soul—his katra—with each brush of that whisper against his mind. When he was deeper than he had ever gone before, it finally came to him, a whispered, barely there,  _t'hy'la_.

If Spock had been awake, he would have gasped. As it was, he delved deeper, and found the word echoing strongly into his mind.  _T'hy'la. Stronger than a friend, deeper than a brother, intensely beloved, and meant to be a lover._

Spock shot out of his mind, panting and bracing himself against the floor with the palms of his hands, his chocolate brown eyes wide and disbelieving. Not at the fact that he loved Jim – he had suspected as much when beginning this exercise, and had been seeking confirmation or denial of that being the case. But this took his breath away. T'hy'la. Spock held in his soul a bond so rare as to not have been seen in over two centuries. Spock had a soul-mate, an unshakeable, unbreakable bond, and that person he had bonded to was Jim. Of course. It made so much sense now – how easily forgiveness had been had, how rapidly they had truly become friends by more than circumstance, why Spock had not minded even the first touch that Jim had so confidently given him.

Spock licked his lips and stood up, walking over to his bed and sitting on the edge of it. Despite his abrupt departure from his meditation, his mind was smooth and calm – and humming with a contentment that could only have come about because Spock realised that Jim was his t'hy'la.

The question now was, what was he to do about this? Did Jim feel the same? He thought it was possible but… This needed more observation. He could not risk losing this friendship they had by making an unwanted advance towards Jim. So that was what he would do. Pay more attention to Jim – not like that would be difficult or unpleasant – and figure out the right time to bring this up. Being t'hy'la explained Selek's encouragement for him to accept this command, and also meant that it was beyond unlikely that these feelings would be unrequited for long, assuming they were even unrequited at all. But he had to wait until he knew for sure before bringing it up.

* * *

"Thank you, Spock." The clasp of a hand on his shoulder, radiating affection and gratitude. There was something… Ah! Missing!  _That_  was the anomaly he had been seeking out for the past week and been unable to quantify because Jim only ever touched him briefly, and then only in such a way as to back up his words with his emotions. Odd, how comforting that reassurance was. He did not care if other people were being honest or not unless it was a matter of business. Most species lied frequently, after all, and even Spock was not immune to telling slight untruths or lies of omission. Never,  _ever_  to Jim, but it had happened before in his life and would likely happen again. He cared very much that Jim was always honest with him regardless of the situation.

Before Jim could remove his hand, Spock clasped it briefly, getting a deeper reading of Jim's emotions, filtering through the flash of shock, pausing at the spike of gratified awe, and exploring the edges of that missing element. Jim was staring at him, and he raised his eyebrow, which made his Captain flush lightly (that was promising) and go back to his business, while Spock continued his own, examining the lingering emotions in the background.

By the end of Alpha shift, Spock was confident that he had the shape of that missing – suppressed, was more like it – emotion. Warmth, affection, and confidence. Jim knew the emotion he was suppressing, was comfortable experiencing it, and was only keeping it away so that he would not leak it to Spock.

Spock was grateful for that – he had come to the realisation of his feelings completely on his own, for the most part, and that was how it had needed to be for the sake of his accepting things. Now, however, it was unnecessary and unwanted. As he left the Bridge with Jim, he asked, "Would you like to play chess tonight, Captain?"

The smile he was gifted with made his heart stutter in his abdomen, and he allowed warmth into his eyes, almost-smiling back. "Of course! I'd love that, Spock. Until then, however, there's always more work to do. I've got to work on some reports after I eat."

That was acceptable. It gave him time to decide how he would broach the subject. He felt oddly calm about this, as if this were simply just meant to be and so did not matter in any negative way. Well, Spock was not going to argue with that; it was a good thing, something to be appreciated. "That sounds acceptable, Jim."

* * *

After an hour of meditation, Spock had decided that the best way to inform Jim of his feelings would simply be to  _show_  him in the form of a Vulcan kiss. They could talk about it later, if it even truly needed talked about, considering that Jim was Spock's t'hy'la, and Jim already likely knew that. They were meant to be together, and Spock suspected that there would be no real fuss about the situation.

Sighing and shaking his head lightly – something he would only ever do in private or around Jim; he was still not comfortable allowing anybody else to see his emotional state – he got up and walked over to his desk, bending to his work until his alarm went off. He had set it to go off at 1900 hours, and calmly turned it off before organising his desk – a nervous gesture that he immediately ceased, his desk was already organised enough. Then he inhaled slowly and entered the bathroom between their quarters before knocking on Jim's door. Unless one of them was not in their rooms, it was always how they began their games of chess, late night chats, and other various things. Highly convenient.

Jim opened the door immediately, running a hand through his hair and smiling widely at Spock. "Hey! Come on in."

Spock stepped into the room and took his usual seat as Jim sat across from him. He knew the how of things, now the question was  _when_? Should he take his decided course of action – his nervousness was beginning to manifest much more strongly now, and thinking that he was planning on  _kissing_  Jim was something he  _could_   _not_   _do_  right now – sooner or later? Jim was surely curious; today had been the first time that Spock initiated any sort of skin-to-skin physical contact between them, and Spock knew without a doubt that he was intensely curious about it. But would he say anything?

Jim had finished setting up the game so Spock made his first move in silence. It could wait a bit.

After the game was approximately halfway over, Jim was losing very badly and Spock was winning with ridiculous ease considering how Jim usually was able to more than easily keep up with him at all times and even outmatch him nearly half of the times they played (Jim won forty eight point seventy two percent of their games together). Clearly something was on his mind, and he had been mulling it over. When Jim opened his mouth again, Spock knew almost down to each word what he was going to say. "Hey, Spock… I just wanted to… Well…"

He fell silent, and Spock watched him for only a moment before reaching out. This was the best time, while Jim was feeling tongue-tied and uncertain. He would reassure Jim and confess simultaneously.

So he brushed his index and middle fingers against Jim's; first once, then a second time, and finally a third time, so that Jim could not mistake it for accident. When Jim stared at him, mouth half open and wonder infusing his expression, he allowed himself a tiny smile, which just made Jim's eyes shine, before calmly stating, "The threads finally connected, t'hy'la, and I am aware of what you are to me and how much you mean to me. There is no need to hold back any longer, Jim."

The response was immediate as Jim gently grabbed Spock's hand and intertwined their fingers, and that missing, suppressed emotion was finally  _there_ , heat and adoration and love – unfathomably deep love – flowing through the touch and into Spock. He gasped at the feeling, before tightening his fingers intimately around Jim's and closing his eyes, basking in the simultaneously both foreign and familiar emotions.

When he opened his eyes, Jim was staring intently at him, and he lifted his left hand, fingers positioned for a meld as he asked, "May I, Jim?"

* * *

Jim mutely nodded as Spock asked to meld with him, absolutely refusing to let go for fear that this was a dream and would disappear if he even breathed heavily. It was simultaneously too much to believe and not enough to experience, so the opportunity to feel what Spock felt was one he snatched up with gratitude.

When cool fingers brushed his meld points, he leaned into the touch, before being flooded with Spock's mind. His mind was warm, bright, and curious, tasting its own experience, but Jim heard "t'hy'la" echoing through it, and through his own mind, before the most amazing thing he had ever felt washed over him and he immersed himself in it. Spock's love was so comforting, so impossibly deep, a strong current washing him away until nothing was left except for his love for Spock and Spock's love for him. That moment lasted an eternity and was over in a breath, and he could feel Spock's regret brushing against him as he commented " _Would that we could stay here forever,_ _t_ _'hy'la, but we have responsibilities. Never forget that I love you with all that I am, Jim,_ _my k'diwa_ _._ "

_My beloved_. Oh  _God_ , Spock not only just flat out told Jim he loved him, he called him  _beloved_.

When he returned to consciousness, Spock was watching him warmly, and Jim smiled the biggest smile he had ever given to anybody in his life. There were no words to express how amazing, wonderful, brilliant this was, how happy it made him, and he took in a shuddering breath, tears swarming his eyes before he could even register that the pervasive feeling of aloneness that had plagued him for his entire life was gone now because of the soft, tenuous bond that had settled into place during the meld. He wasn't alone, never alone any more. Spock was here, would be with him wherever they were, even when they were apart. He choked on his breath and Spock was there in an instant, brushing fingers through his hair as he tentatively embraced Jim.

Jim finally let go of his loneliness, escaping from that ache with sobs that tore through him, and Spock held him tighter as he cried out his relief. He would never be alone again.

When he finished crying, Spock was humming in the back of his mind, sending love and comfort to him through their gentle, soft, light bond as he pulled away. "Fuck, Spock. I love you so much, thank you so much, I can never…"

Spock brushed their fingers together in a kiss as he firmly stated, "I know, Jim. You are not alone any more, and never will be."

It was enough.


	13. Miri

**Miri**

Jim sat in his Command chair as Farrell responded to his comment about the strange distress signal they had heard. It was an Earth-style distress signal – an  _SOS_  of all things. "I've answered it on all frequencies, sir. They don't reply."

Spock added in his two cents, "That would be because it is not a vessel, but a ground source. The third planet in this solar system, according to my instruments."

Farrell turned back to his station, before agreeing, "That's why! Yeah, Captain, it's directly ahead. Definitely an Earth-style signal."

That was… strange, to say the least. "We're hundreds of light years away from Earth though! There are no colonies or vessels out in this sector."

Spock was intently manning his station, observing what was going on and reporting back to Jim in a steady, calm voice, but as he spoke, Jim moved closer, intrigued both by his words and the feeling of muted shock humming about in the back of their new bond. "Measuring the planet now, Captain. It's spheroid-shaped, and has a circumference of twenty four thousand, eight hundred and seventy four miles. The mass is six times ten to the twenty first power tons. Its mean density is five point five one seven."

Jim was leaning against the railing directly behind his t'hy'la now, and caught that Spock tilted his head back towards Jim as he ended with, "Atmosphere: oxygen, nitrogen."

Janice Rand was on the Bridge, and let out an exclamation at that, "Earth!"

Jim shook his head in wonderment, responding with, "Not  _the_  Earth, another Earth.  _Another_  Earth?"

What the ever-loving  _fuck_  was going on here?!

Jim was back in the Command chair when he finally came to a decision. "Hold us in a fixed orbit, Spock."

"Affirmative, Captain."

Not that he was going to be leaving Spock behind; not by any means. But he trusted Spock to set things up to cause the stablest orbit for their crewmembers.

He already knew the answer, but he asked anyway, "Still no response, Communications?"

"None, Captain."

That decided him on his course of action. This had to be investigated. "We'll beam down. Alert Security. Prepare to transport a landing party to the surface. We'll land in the vicinity of the distress signals now being received."

Jim decided that Spock, Bones (because they didn't know the  _nature_  of the distress on this identical-to-Earth planet), Janice (because she was highly capable – as a matter of fact, for as demure as she liked to act, Janice was one of the most badass women he had ever met – and if the planet was Earth-identical, it almost certainly had humanoid inhabitants; females usually were more likely to trust another female than a male, especially one like Jim who was clearly an Alpha, despite how laid-back he could be about many things), and however many Security crewmen Commander Giotto decided were necessary would make up the away team – along with Jim himself, of course. It was hardly protocol, but he didn't trust the lives of his crew with just anybody and so most of the time, he would be on the away team, and the Admiralty could just go screw themselves.

That was how it'd been on their first spate of missions together, and it would continue being that way.

Needless to say, even though they didn't like it, the Admiralty couldn't deny that his chosen course was effective.

In the end, it was decided to only bring two Security crewmen; Jim didn't mind – he'd fought with both of them and they could take care of themselves. Training the Security was going exceedingly well at this point. When they beamed down, they were surrounded by dilapidated brick and stone buildings, broken down cars he recognised as being from the mid to early 1900's, and a completely deserted city around them.

He spoke once everybody was there, and took note of the Security crewmen going off in their own directions to explore and report back to him. "Huh, it's practically identical. Earth, as it was in the early 1900s."

Spock shook his head, commenting, "More the mid-1900s I would say, Captain, approximately 1960."

Jim nodded as Janice looked around and asked softly, "But where  _is_  everybody?"

Spock kind-of answered that for all of them, "Readings indicate that natural deterioration has been taking place on this planet for at least several centuries."

Still gazing around at the deserted area they were in, Janice asked, "You mean there's no one alive?"

Yet again, Spock was the one to answer her, "Not conclusive, Yeoman. The evidence would, however, suggest that the distress signal is automated."

Then Bones spoke up, lightening the mood as he said, "Now, this is marvellous. The most horrible conglomeration of antique architecture I've ever seen."

"Spock."

Jim had found a tricycle, broken and discarded, and he handed it to his t'hy'la to observe. Spock inspected it for a few moments, before handing it to Bones, who understandably had mixed feelings about the item because of Joanna, playing with one of the wheels before gently setting it down. Just as he had done so, however, a mutated humanoid life-form rushed him, tackling him to the ground.

"Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine!"

Jim dragged the obviously child-in-mutated-form off of Bones and Spock helped him, Jim punching the thing with several accurate hits to the face until it fell to the ground – which Bones had vacated – and tenderly stroked the broken tricycle. "It's, it's broke. Somebody broke it. Fix. Somebody, please fix."

It made complete sense that Bones was the one to respond, scanning the thing all the while, "Of course somebody will fix it."

Spock commented about the life-form as they observed it and Bones scanned the poor thing, "Definitely humanoid, in spite of the distortion."

Jim added his two cents, "But with the mind of a child."

The thing suddenly stiffened and then obviously began to seize up, but Jim needed clarification that he was right about what was happening to the strange being, "Bones, what is it?"

Bones was still scanning as he worriedly said, "A seizure of some type."

Jim bent down to the thing that had recently attacked them and firmly stated, "We want to help you."

Despite the seizures, it had enough left of its mind not to believe them (which Jim  _hated_ ), crying out, "Liar! Never, never, never, never, never, never, never!"

Then the seizures stopped, and Bones gasped, "It's dead. It's incredible."

Jim looked over at him sharply, wondering what his tricorder was telling him, "What is?"

"Its metabolic rate. It's impossibly high – as if it's burning itself up, almost as if it aged a century in just the past few minutes."

Jim heard running and stood up, heading towards it and calling back to the three crewmembers still with him, "Come on!"

They stopped by a tree and Jim heard a sound again, coming from the house across the way. Their Security guards had followed when they ran – smart fellows – and as they entered the house, one of them went to explore upstairs while Jim examined the piano in what was clearly the living room. Jim was curious, so he asked Spock, "How old is this thing?"

Spock answered immediately, "About three hundred years old, Jim."

Jim heard a sound in the closet, and they surrounded it, him and Bones to one side and Spock and the remaining guard to the other side, while Janice stayed out in front of the door, "Come out. We mean you no harm."

No response. He cautiously opened the door, only to be faced with a very pretty – if grubby and tear-stained – girl in a floral patterned dress and dark leggings. The first words out of her mouth were distressing, as he battled his inner demons, recognising that she felt threatened by him. Jim  _hated_  scaring children, he just wanted to protect all of them. "Don't hurt me, please!"

"I'm not going to hurt you."

The girl wasn't content with his response, repeating, "No, please, don't! I didn't do anything!"

Jim repeated himself as well, gently manoeuvring her out of the closet and into the chair in the room, "I won't hurt you."

The girl was clearly completely terrified, and Janice crouched next to him, ready to assist if necessary, "No, please don't!"

He softly stated, "I only want to talk to you."

It was completely heartbreaking to have this young woman (he had to clarify that she was clearly still mentally a child to him, just to avoid attachment of an inappropriate manner on her part, if she ever began to trust him) simply saying yet again, "No, don't! Don't hurt!"

This went on a few times, the girl continuing to tell them not to hurt her and Jim trying to reassure her before he finally looked to Janice, who rested her hand on the arm of the chair and said, "We won't hurt you, sweetheart. We're your friends. No, shh!"

Thank  _fuck_. Even with Spock radiating comfort and reassurance into his head, this whole mess was still difficult for him. He had a weakness for children – understandably so. But as much as he wanted to keep Spock by his side, he needed more information on whatever calamity had happened, so he said, "Take the guards, have a look outside. Radioactive readings, chemical pollutions, any further sign of life."

Spock caressed his fingers in a swift kiss before leaving, "Right, Captain."

Bones spoke quietly when he left, asking Jim, "I wonder what happened to her, that she should be so terrified of us."

That was what Jim wanted to know.

* * *

The guards and Spock were all looking around when he caught a movement from the corner of his eye. There – what was that? A clear spot in a window filled with grime. He peered in, wondering if there were more children on this planet.

* * *

The girl was speaking again, and Jim had to admire her courage – despite clearly being terrified of all of them, including Janice, her body was steady and holding up; no trembling or shaking going on. "But I remember the things you Grups did, burning, yelling, hurting people."

Jim had to correct her, "We didn't do anything like that. We only just got here, and have never been here before, so we didn't – and won't – do anything like that, sweetheart."

The girl thought for a moment, before asking – this time with the intent to actually listen to what they were saying, "You're not going to hurt?"

Jim shook his head, his hair falling slightly into his face as he did so. "Well, of course not. We're here to help. Not to hurt."

Even though she was listening, she still didn't believe them. "Grups don't help."

Janice was the one to respond to that, "But we will, sweetheart."

Then his curiosity finally could not be held back any longer, and Jim asked, "What happened here? Where is everybody?"

The girl almost scoffed, and glared at him lightly, "You know."

Jim shook his head, "No, I don't. Like I said, we only just got here. I don't know anything about what happened here. Won't you tell me?"

The girl stubbornly kept not believing him and even though it  _hurt_ , he was impressed with her strength and caution, "You got a foolie, is that it, and you want me to play, but I can't. I don't know the rules. I've got to know the rules."

Bones spoke up at that, clearly confused, "Foolie? What's a foolie?"

She stared at them as if they were idiots – it was good to see that she wasn't as terrified any more. "A game;  _you_  know. You can't play a game without rules. Even Grups ought to know that."

That word again. This time Jim was the one to ask, "What are Grups?"

She looked at him, a "duh" clear in her voice and her eyes as she responded with, " _You_  are. They will be, when Onlies get old."

Janice's eyes widened and she said, "Oh. Grownups. Grups. Of course."

Jim had to admit to kind of feeling like an idiot over missing that, but ignored the feeling to return to something she commented offhandedly earlier, "You said something about the Grups doing bad things; yelling, hurting, burning."

The girl nodded, "That was when they started to get sick in the before time. We hid, then they were gone. Am I doing all right?"

Jim nodded and smiled softly at her, "You're doing fine."

Bones asked, "You said the Grups got sick. Is that why there aren't any of them around?"

"Yes. They died, but that was after the awful things."

Bones looked over and caught his eye, "A plague, Jim. That could explain a lot of it. Like that thing earlier."

Jim nodded in acceptance, and then asked the girl in the yellow chair, "But what about the children, the Onlies? Didn't the awful things affect them?"

She shrugged and rolled her eyes, "Of course not. We're here, aren't we?"

That gave Jim pause, as he realised that they had probably been lucky to catch a single child, instead of encountering – and probably being attacked by – a large group of them. "There are more of you? How many more?"

She didn't give him a number, simply stating, "All there are."

Jim finally felt it was safe to ask now, and sat on the arm of the dandelion coloured chair, "What's your name?"

Her response was soft, "Miri."

Jim smiled, "Miri. A pretty name for a pretty girl."

He couldn't let her see him as a potential crush, so he had to make sure to call her a girl, even though she was a young woman, physically at least.

Miri shyly asked, "Pretty?"

Jim smiled again with a nod, "Very pretty. If I ever have a daughter I might just name her after you, Miri."

Jim and Spock hadn't gotten into talking about children, but if they ever wanted any, Jim was fine with IVF and using a surrogate so that they could raise a family together, or even adopting, whatever Spock ended up preferring.

* * *

Spock continued to explore the city, before he felt turbulent emotions coming from an alleyway and headed into it, the two Security guards following behind him. They went around the corner before he heard a noise from above him, recognising a drop-down fire escape ladder. Intending to go up and examine the situation, he called out, "Guards! Cover me."

As soon as they were waiting beside the ladder, he moved towards it, before something dropped down from above and he instinctively pulled the guards against the wall beside him, shielding his head with his forearm. Objects (large stones, he filed away for later) were thrown into the alleyway from above, accompanied by a very vocal and almost chorus-like chanting of what was clearly many children. "Nyah na nyah! Nyah na nyah! Nyah na nyah! Nyah na nyah! Nyah na nyah! Nyah na nyah! Nyah na nyah! Nyah na nyah! Nyah na nyah! Nyah na nyah!"

The objects stopped falling and he ran back towards the house with the other child in it. Jim needed to know about this.

* * *

Spock entered the house and confirmed what Miri had said to them not too long ago with a statement of, "Children, Jim. Lots of them. They threw things at us but we are all uninjured."

That would explain the spike of unease he had felt from his k'diwa. Spock continued on, trailing his fingers over the back of Jim's hand intimately in reassurance. Jim kissed their fingers together when he reached them, "We couldn't begin to get close to them. They just seemed to scurry away, like animals. Only children."

Jim nodded, "Miri here said all the adults died. Bones speculates of a plague of some sorts."

Bones spoke up at that, "That creature which attacked us was certainly no child. Perhaps it died of the disease the girl's talking about."

He nodded and walked over to Miri, who was standing amongst them far more comfortably now, "There must be records somewhere and answers to some of our questions. Miri, do you know any buildings where the doctors used to work?"

She nodded in return but unease filled her eyes, blooming slowly. "Yes, I know that. Them and their  _pills_  and things."

Here it was, the first test in how much she trusted them. "Will you take us there, Miri?"

She hesitated, before quietly saying, "That's a bad place."

It probably was, considering that whatever caused the plague that had wiped out all the adults had almost definitely come from there. "It's important. Please."

Miri nodded more firmly, still uneasy but understanding that to these people she was coming to trust, it was needed. "All right. Do you have a name, too?"

He smiled slightly at her, "Yes. It's Jim."

She stood up more firmly at that and Jim decided that whatever her response was, he  _had_  to make sure she didn't develop a crush on him – or at least, he had to make sure she knew he didn't see her that way. That would only make things worse down the line. "I like that name."

Jim smiled a bit wider, "Good. I like yours, too, like I said earlier. I like you, Miri. If I have a daughter I hope she is as brave as you are."

He felt a thrill of a mixture of excitement and worry flow into his mind and shot a warm smile to Spock before returning to look at the brunette in front of him.

She seemed to sag a bit at that, before bravely stiffening her shoulders, and then shyly asking – apparently accepting that he wouldn't return her already-developing crush, "Do you really?"

"I wouldn't lie to you."

Miri looked down, and he tilted her head up, "I wouldn't lie to you, either, Jim. I remember the Grups, but you're nice. You're different."

He grinned softly, happy that she was no longer so traumatised by his presence, "Why, thank you."

Then he pulled his hand away as he noticed a strange blue mark along the inside of his hand, where his thumb met his palm.  _Uh_  oh. This could not  _possibly_  be good. This shit was  _airborne_?! That meant they were  _all_  contaminated by now. Yet again, more proof that their scanners weren't adequate enough. It also meant that they were stuck down here until Bones found a cure.

Miri, however,  _completely_  freaked upon seeing the blemish. "It's already starting! I knew it would! Just like it did with the Grups. It'll spread all over you, and you'll yell, and you'll try to hurt everybody and then you'll die. I knew it would! I  _knew_  it would!"

Jim used his clean hand to squeeze her shoulder and turn her so that she could see Bones. "He's a doctor, Miri, and one of the best doctors in the universe. If you can take us to that building, he can find a cure."

She set her shoulders and nodded, leading the way out of the house they were in.

* * *

The building Miri led them to also housed an automatic transmission station, which sent out the signal that drew them to this planet. They also discovered something else: that the blue blotches, characteristic of the unknown disease, had appeared on each and every person in the landing party, with the exception of Spock. There was a well-equipped laboratory in the building, however, and Bones took tissue samples of each of them in an attempt to isolate the organism responsible for the plague.

After examining the lesions under the more primitive microscopes they had on this planet, Bones huffed aggravatedly. "It's a damned veritable  _zoo_  of bacteria."

Then he activated his comm unit and got in touch with Farrell, who was manning Communications as it was Uhura's day off. "Beam down a biocomputer and a portable electronic microscope. If I'm dealing with viruses, I'll need better equipment than I have here."

Farrell responded promptly, "Yes, Doctor. Captain Kirk?"

Jim answered the comment, "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"I've got volunteers standing by ready to help you, sir."

Even though Farrell couldn't see him, he shook his head in negation and commanded, "Under no circumstances do I want  _anyone_  to beam down from the ship. We can't take any chances with further contamination. It's bad enough as it is, and I'm not risking making it any worse."

There was an electric pause, and then Farrell rushed out, "But Captain, if you become too ill to-"

Jim, however, was not backing down on this. "My orders still stand, Lieutenant. You can help us best by clearing the computer banks and standing by. Kirk out."

Then he looked to their resident doctor, and Jim was beyond glad that he had brought him with them on the away team, "Bones, why do you think the symptoms haven't appeared in Spock?"

Bones shrugged and smirked over at Spock, teasing him slightly – they still didn't exactly get along, but they were definitely growing into frenemies, "I don't know. Probably the little bugs or whatever they are have no appetite for green blood."

Spock returned the sally, knowing that nobody would take offence because he was clearly teasing them all, "Being a red-blooded human obviously has its disadvantages. Now there you have a museum piece, Doctor."

He was referring to the microscope, "Lens type, manually operated, light-activated-"

Bones shot him a glare, " _Spare_  me the analysis, Spock,  _please_. It's enough that it works."

Miri was watching them all with a kind of dreadful fascination and when Bones spotted another lesion on his hand, she grabbed it gently and said, "It spreads real fast. I know. When you're old, it covers you like anything."

Jim, meanwhile, had been reading the files in the lab and finally stumbled on how this plague began, "I found it! "Intermediate experimentation report: project on life prolongation"."

Spock had another report in his hand and stated, "Progress report, genetics section, Life Prolongation Project."

Both Bones and Janice moved closer, and Janice commented, "So that's what it was."

Bones' comment was much more sobering, "Life prolongation. Didn't have much luck, did they?"

Just then, Bones' biocomputer and a portable electronic microscope were beamed down from the  _Enterprise_. They would be used in conjunction with computer banks on-board the ship, in order to take advantage of all of the resources that they had.

Now it was just a waiting game.

* * *

Miri was wandering around touching various things while Bones spoke both to them and to his crew onboard the  _Enterprise_. "Tubular with extreme multiplicability. It appears to have an affinity for nucleic acids. Give me what you have."

Meanwhile, Spock was by Jim, sitting on a desk while Jim himself stood, resting a foot on the seat of a chair as he used his multitasking abilities to listen to Bones while he read – he knew some medical stuff and needed to learn more, so it was always a good idea to listen to Bones' observations. (Not that Jim would stop resisting medical attention, partly because he hated hospitals and thus Sickbay, and partly because him resisting treatment allowed Bones to vent about shit, which he had learned very early on was necessary to his oldest friend's mental health.) "This was  _three_   _hundred_  years ago, Captain."

Jim nodded, musing softly. "And all the adults are dead. Only the children are left alive."

Spock pointed out something that Jim had overlooked, and which immediately made him worry about their guide. "But children become adults."

He grimaced, "At least, they have up to now."

Spock moved to stand and head over to Bones, giving Jim a kiss as he left to stand on the other side, resting his arm against one of Bones' instruments; Jim was on the right and Spock was on the left. Vulcan kisses might not be inherently demonstrative amongst humans, but Spock's emotions – and Jim's – were always possessive regarding their kisses, not to mention it was nice being able to actually kiss without people staring since nobody on the ship except for Uhura knew what they meant, and so far they had avoided her seeing their new form of affection. By next week they would stop "hiding" it from her, but they both wanted to tell their other best friends before they realised for themselves; assuming they didn't already realise. "Doctor, there are certain glandular changes which take place upon entering puberty, are there not?"

The emotions were fond as they flowed into his mind; Spock was asking an obvious question to lead Bones into the realisation he had had. Which was  _why_ , in  _all_   _that_   _time_ , there were still no adults, even though there must have been hundreds of children at one point. "Of course. It changes the entire body system. You know that. Of course you know that. Why?"

He responded calmly, as usual. "Is it not possible that these children here, as they enter puberty, contract the disease?"

Jim added in his comment when Spock mentally prodded him; apparently he wanted this realisation to be between the three of them. He was generous with not leaving Jim out. "That would explain why there are no adults."

Bones looked at the two of them, muttering to himself, "Glandular, post-pubescent. Could be."

Spock was slightly agitated at this, but Jim could understand why. It just did not make any sense that there was any life left on this planet. "It's  _illogical_. It does not follow. All the adults on this planet died three hundred years ago, but there are children in the streets."

He was the one muttering this time, "Children, all of whom die when they enter adolescence."

Bones asked them the million dollar question, "But how do they keep the line going?"

They mulled this over for a bit before Janice said, "One thing, Captain. If she were a wild animal ever since she's been a little girl, how do you explain that she wants to stay with us?"

Jim knew why but he would pretend not to; just in case Miri, who was exploring the laboratory, was listening. "Loneliness? I don't know, curiosity? I think children have an instinctive need for adults. They want guidance in their lives."

Damn. His t'hy'la wasn't going to let him get away with it. "There may be other emotions at work in this case, Captain."

Bones rolled his eyes and said bluntly, "She  _likes_  you, Jim."

Before anybody could say anything else Jim said, "Look. I know. I made it clear how I feel about her. I can't change her feelings but I refuse to encourage them in that manner. The problem is this: if she's already attached to me like that, and looking at her body… She can't have very long. Maybe a few years, maybe a few days. She's already entering puberty which means once she finishes growing up; goodbye Miri."

They sat in silence for a few moments, thinking over his words as their mouths firmed in determination. It wasn't just them, now – Bones, Jim, and Spock tended to value their own lives less than the lives of others. They had to save Miri – and the other children, wherever they were – just as badly.

* * *

After a while, Farrell got back to Spock. "Mister Spock."

"Spock here."

"Here are those figures you asked for. Twelve to the tenth power. Metabolic rate seventy two percent. Production of nucleic acids reduced to thirty three percent of normal. Conventional chronological progression one hundred by three point six."

Spock nodded, "Acknowledged, Lieutenant. I have their calculations now."

Jim stopped by the Security guards and asked them, "Try again. See if you can find anything outside."

Then he walked over to Miri and asked her, "Hey, Miri, would you mind cleaning up that desk for me?"

She sent him a shy smile and accepted the cloth he handed to her. He didn't really need the desk to be clean, but it would give her something to do when he left to go converse with the rest of them. "All right, Jim."

Jim smiled and rested his hand atop her head in a paternal fashion, "Thank you very much, Miri. I appreciate it."

Then he headed back over to Spock, Bones, and Janice. After just a very short time, the calculations were done, "According to their life prolongation plan, what they thought they were accomplishing, a person would age only one month for every one hundred years of real time."

Janice's eyes widened, "One hundred years and only one month of ageing? That's, just… Surreal!"

Spock nodded to her as they encircled the equipment more closely to keep Miri from listening in. "Exactly, Yeoman. Evidently through some miscalculation, this virus annihilated the entire adult population in a very short period, leaving only the children."

A swift intake of breath from Janice meant she immediately realised what he did, "But that means these children-"

His t'hy'la nodded again, chocolate brown eyes narrowing some in anger at what these children had gone through. It wasn't even just the slow ageing, it was the lack of any structure, it was the surviving on food that would doubtlessly be running out soon, it was watching their friends age and then get overtaken by the disease. "Could very well be immensely old."

Jim ran a hand through his hair agitatedly, "That would certainly answer the question of what happened to their parents."

Bones nodded, "Yeah, answers it very well."

His Yeoman, however, was not thinking clearly, stuck in a dream of "what could be" and not seeing the downsides. To be fair, most people would react like she was right now. "Children who never age. Eternal childhood, filled with play, no responsibilities. It's almost like a dream."

Pipe dreams were useless and unhelpful, so Jim simply said, "I wouldn't examine that dream too closely, Yeoman. It might not turn out to be very pretty."

Bones, on the other hand,  _was_  seeing things clearly, "A few days ago or a week ago that creature that attacked us could have been just like Miri. A child entering puberty on this planet means a death sentence."

That caused Janice to glance over at Miri and wince; Jim knew she had realised how foolish her thinking had been, "Do you suppose she knows?"

His best friend shook his head, saying, "Nah, I don't think so. If she did she would be acting much differently."

Janice stubbornly shook her head in negation, "If they're as old as Spock claims, they must have  _some_  idea of what's happening."

Jim clarified it for her, running a hand through his blonde hair and wishing he were nearer to Spock; he could use some physical comfort right now, and kissing or holding hands would be perfect for Jim. "There's no adult interpretation. I think we're dealing with children. Immensely old perhaps, but nonetheless children. We've got to do something about the others."

Spock spoke up then, "That will be difficult, if we can't even get a glimpse of them."

He turned to face Spock, "You couldn't get close to the other kids?"

"It is impossible. They know the area too well, like mice."

Jim firmed up a plan. If the kids saw that he was not dangerous, maybe they would come out of hiding. "I'm going to try to find them."

He left them there, getting close enough to Spock to brush their fingers together, and headed over to Miri, "Hey, Miri? Come here. You wanna go someplace with me?"

Miri smiled brightly at him, clearly willing to get anything from him that she could take, and grabbed his outstretched hand. Man, he  _hated_  breaking hearts. It was why he'd slept around so much at the Academy. One night stands don't end in disaster. "Sure."

Meanwhile, he heard Janice behind him as he left. "That little girl…"

Spock's reply left him with a sick feeling in his stomach, "Is at least three hundred years older than you are, Yeoman. Think about it."

* * *

Jahn was angry. Scratch that, he was  _furious_. Miri was outside with that stupid Grup, even though she  _knew_  Grups were bad news, and showing him around the city,  _holding his hand_ , as if he wasn't dangerous! He pulled his hair and spun around in the middle of the rest of the Onlies. "Miri is with them! Why? Why?"

Kyle asked, "What's she going to do, Jahn?"

He began pacing circles through and around the Onlies, "I don't, I don't know. I know what we've got to do, though. There are more of them than we see. Somewhere, up in the sky, maybe, somewhere. They talk to each other all the time. You know Grups. You know what they do, the hurting, the killing."

Kyle nodded, agreeing with him, "I remember, Jahn, the way it was."

He encouraged their anger, being the leader as was his right, "That's right, the way it was in the before time. They talk to the other Grups with these little boxes. Now, if they didn't have those little boxes, they'd be all alone, huh?"

Kyle grinned and began running around the room, goading the other Onlies on. "But they don't see us. We hide. Olly olly oxen free!"

They joined in gleefully, "Olly olly oxen free! Olly olly oxen free! Olly olly oxen free!"

No, he had to get this straight! He grabbed Kyle's arm and jerked the other boy to a stop, "No! It's not a game, it's real. They're dangerous, they're Grups. Don't you understand?"

Markl in his lookout spot called out just then, "Jahn!"

That made him and the other Onlies go to the window and look, and he saw the nasty Grup and Miri heading towards them; probably they heard Kyle and the others before he calmed them down. "All right, let's hide!"

* * *

Jim walked into the dilapidated building with Miri, and suddenly the place was a madhouse as a scream rang out, causing the children that had been hiding to scatter in several different directions. He saw the changing girl and she jumped on his back. Jim tried unsuccessfully to get her off gently, but eventually he flipped her over his head and she writhed around on the ground. He stunned her – but it was too late. "Dead. I don't understand it. My phaser wasn't set to kill. Surely she had longer to live than that?"

If she didn't, they were thoroughly  _screwed_  – as was Miri.

Miri was distraught and scared, so he turned his attention to her, "Her name was Louise. She was just a little bit older than I am when it happened. Oh, Jim!"

Jim allowed her the hug – feeling miserable because if they didn't manage to cure this, that would be poor Miri's fate.

* * *

Farrell's voice came in through Spock's comm unit, "Data has been fed into the computers, Mister Spock. Stand by."

Jim heard Spock respond, "Acknowledged."

Right now he was watching Miri; he had sent her to sharpening pencils – which had faded into nonexistence in their time, being a waste of wood – and when she turned to him, asking, "Are these enough, Jim?" He shook his head.

"We could use some more, if you don't mind."

Miri clearly  _did_  mind a little bit, but was willing to do as he asked anyway, and smiled a bit, "No, I don't mind."

Jim sighed and paced around behind Bones and Janice to stand beside Spock, holding the notes that Spock had been reading through in his hand and handing them back to Spock so he could run a hand through his hair, "There couldn't be any doubt about what you found here?"

He got a shake of the head and a sigh – Spock was clearly disturbed by the situation, although most of his worry was centred on Jim and Miri (and the other children on the planet), with Bones being a close second and Janice a distant third. Janice and Spock had a carefully calculated distance between them, as Janice had feelings for Jim and had not gotten over them yet. Spock wasn't jealous in any way, shape, or form, but he was careful not to be cruel, and so despite how much contact they had with each other, he was only ever professional towards her, and had not begun developing a friendship with her yet. Jim thought that whenever she found out that he and Spock were together, her feelings would finally be able to be put to rest, although it would take time, and then –  _only_ then, would Spock try to initiate a friendship with Janice. Spock was worried about the Security guards as well, but knew very few of them personally so they rated below everybody else – not low enough to be considered expendable, but not high enough to be considered worth wasting necessary energy worrying uselessly about.

"This fellow made these notes in the last weeks after the disaster began. I disregard these last entries. He said himself he was too sick, too far gone to be sure he wasn't already mad, and I agree, but based on the entries he made before that, I know how much time we have. The ship's computers will verify my figures."

Bones spoke up then, "Shit. If that's the case it's only a matter of time before we all go mad, destroy each other, till the last of us finally destroys himself.

Jim walked around the table after caressing the back of Spock's hand and then sat on the desk to the right of Spock, asking softly, "What about Miri?"

The worry he felt in the back of his head strengthened, as Spock responded, "Our guess was correct. They contract the disease as they enter puberty and their metabolism changes. The notes would indicate it doesn't become acute for a month or so. I estimate she has perhaps five or six weeks left. If she is lucky."

Then Bones asked the million credit question, "What about us?"

Spock looked seriously at each of them around him, his statement visibly showing his worry as his eyes lingered on the oldest person in the landing party. Jim had read the notes – he knew what was coming, and hated it. They  _couldn't_  lose Bones. "The older the victim, the more rapid the progress of the disease."

Bones gripped the table tightly and gave off a terse – but determined – nod.

After a moment, Jim asked another question which he knew the answer to but which needed to be stated for the benefit of everyone else, "And you? The disease doesn't seem to be interested in you."

Spock sent love through the bond, reassurance, but Jim didn't really believe that Spock could handle losing him. However, that was a good thing – it meant he would work harder on finding the cure. Not that he wouldn't have put in his best effort to begin with but he would go above and beyond anything if it meant not losing Jim. "I am a carrier. Whatever happens, I can't go back to the ship, and I  _do_  want to go back to the ship,  _Captain_."

Jim had to smile at the slight tease, "Of course you do, Spock. We still don't know what we're fighting, though."

Bones spoke, and Jim turned to listen to him, "No, but we know what it does and how fast it does it. It's progressing. We'll begin to feel it inside soon. Intense fever, great pain in the extremities, fuzziness of vision. Of course, those are the early symptoms. There'll be more."

Damn. He turned to Spock, asking a rather futile question because fucking seriously, how often was Spock  _ever_  wrong about this kind of thing? "Are you certain about the time we have left?

Spock reached out and briefly curled their fingers together where Jim's were hanging over the edge of the desk – he'd been gripping it earlier, but he didn't know if even Bones could manage a cure while infected in the time they had left, and so until the coolness of Spock's own fingers leeched into his, he'd just been letting them hang down – defeated. "I presume my calculations are correct."

"Fuck! This is beyond not good."

Spock's comm unit went off and he tangled their fingers more tightly together as Spock answered it with his free hand, "Landing party, this is the  _Enterprise_."

"Spock here."

Farrell just confirmed Spock's calculations and Jim closed his eyes, running his left hand through his hair, "Computer indicates one hundred seventy hours, Mister Spock."

Spock pulled his hand completely off the desk and held it tightly, sending reassurance to Jim through their light – but strengthening – bond, "Verified, Captain. We have seven days."

* * *

Two days later they were standing around the cluttered desk, covered in all of the research about the Life Prolongation Program that they could find. Jim was getting frustrated and could already feel the disease beginning to affect him very slightly. Spock was an immense help, sending reassurance to Jim on a constant basis and helping to keep his temper from fraying too badly. "There's no data, no starting point."

Bones spoke up just then, "I think I've found it!"

Jim looked at him, then over at Janice, who was handling this worse than anybody else, and over at Miri, who was listening in some. "Janice, take Miri for a walk, please?"

His Yeoman nodded and left the group around the table, "Yes, sir."

He sighed and listened to Bones clarifying, "It's only one half intact."

"But do you know what they were up to?"

Bones nodded, "More or less. The idea was to create a new series of diseases, a chain reaction of viruses meant essentially to extend the life of the human cell immeasurably."

Spock shook his head slightly, "Unfortunately, they weren't successful. We've seen the results."

He sighed and moved from beside bones to lean against the table stacked with folders and papers. "You two will have to recreate their thinking. If you can isolate that virus, we'll be able to develop a vaccine."

His weary comment made Bones grumble and snark at him, "Is that  _all_ , Captain? We have five days, you know."

Jim sighed and turned to glare at Bones, "I  _know_."

Suddenly voices were coming from somewhere, immature tones chanting, "Nyah na nyah. Nyah na nyah."

He cried out, "The children!"

That made them all scatter to look for the kids.

It seemed to be a fruitless endeavour however as they gathered in the corridor outside the laboratory. "Anything?"

Spock shook his head, "No, nothing."

Jim sighed, "Damn."

They walked back into the laboratory as he asked Bones, "And you? I assume nothing as well?"

But before bones could answer, Spock hissed out a frustrated breath and said, "Communicators, Captain, they're gone."

Bones growled lowly, "Jim, We've absolutely got to have those communicators. Without them, we don't have the computers, and without the computers, we don't have a chance."

* * *

Janice sighed as she obeyed her Captain's obvious ploy to try and de-stress her, jealously looking down at Miri as she walked outside. Miri looked up at her and said softly, "You know, it's not me you should be jealous of."

The platinum blonde stopped in her tracks and stared at the young woman beside her. Then she bit her lip. She knew that, logically. She didn't know  _who_  it was, but the Captain clearly had someone else, as he never, ever acknowledged her flirtations. "I know. That doesn't make it any easier though, watching him dote on someone else."

Miri giggled and shook her head, "You're not  _seeing_  it then! It's  _Spock_. We never had a chance, Janice. I've been watching, you know. I know something bad is happening. But Jim and Spock… They support each other, and reassure each other. Their hands. It's always in their hands. Holding, touching, caressing. It's actually kinda sweet."

_Spock_? Oh! Suddenly, a dozen things clicked in her mind, countless little clues, little signs that she had not been willing to see deeper into, that she had purposely overlooked, and she laughed in relief; if it was Spock that Jim was attracted to, then she'd never had a chance, and somehow that made it easier to bear. Nobody could measure up to Spock, so it wasn't any failing of her own that made the Captain overlook her. It was simply that his attention had been caught by somebody that nobody else could hold a candle to.

Janice laughed in relief and hugged Miri impulsively. "Thank you, Miri! I feel much better about the situation now! Not being sick, but Jim not caring for me like that."

Miri smiled and they continued their walk.

* * *

Miri frowned as she looked at the little devices that Jahn had stolen, and then down at her arm. Nobody else had seen it yet, but she closed her eyes and tried not to cry as she thought that that had to change. Jim and the others needed to get their communicator-thingies back. That left it up to Miri to do. Taking a deep breath, she  _screamed_ , causing the other Onlies to look at her.

"My arm! It's happening, my arm!"

They hissed and fell back and she remembered what she overheard a few days ago. "It's gonna happen to all of us, don't you see?! Lilly, Ken, Jessie, Lido, and how many others?! How many of us have we lost because of the disease?! It'll happen to me next, and then you Jahn because when Onlies get old, we  _DIE_! Please! Don't let this kill you! If Jim and the others have their things back they can  _fix it_  so that  _none_  of us will die like that again!"

Jahn stared at her and inhaled softly. "You're not just saying that because you don't want this stupid  _Jim_  of yours to die?"

Miri shook her head, "Jim isn't mine. Jim is with Spock. Jahn, please…"

Miri sobbed softly as fear overcame her, "I… I don't wanna die, Jahn! I don't want you to die either and you will!"

Jahn looked uncomfortable but he patted her head and handed the white devices back to her. All six of them. "Here. Go… Go help them save us."

She could have laughed if she wasn't so scared, and she  _did_  give Jahn a massive hug. "Thank you!"

Then Miri ran off to the bad place again to give the communicators back to Jim and the others.

* * *

"Jim?"

A small voice caught his attention, and Jim looked around only to find Miri there, with her hands behind her back. He bit back a nasty comment; the disease was getting to him and he'd already gotten into it with a Security guard and Janice before now. He understood that it was the disease hiking up her fear, but she still wasn't being the badass woman he knew she was, she was letting her fear get ahold of her and it was turning her into a wreck; he hated seeing competent people turned into incompetence.

Patient and forcing a smile, he said, "Yes, Miri? What is it?"

They had two days left. Two days and no sign of the communicators. "I did it. Like you asked me if I could try and it worked. Because of my arm."

Because of her – oh. Oh  _no_! There was a blemish on Miri's arm and Jim looked at the girl who was already close to being a daughter to him. "Oh, Miri…"

She smiled brightly and pulled her arms in front of her, displaying their communicators, all six of them. "It's okay Jim. Spock and Leonard will fix it! You know they will! Especially because I got your devices back."

He impulsively hugged the girl and stroked her hair. "Thank you, Miri."

Then he grabbed her other arm and walked with her to the table, where she dumped their comm units out onto it. "Miri worked a miracle, guys. We're set to go! Let's do this bitch!"

* * *

Leonard injected himself with the vaccine, and collapsed to the floor, biting back a scream of agony as the antivirus spread through him and changed his biology back to what it had been before the disease. When he finished, he was surrounded by the worried crew and the ever-sweet Miri, who had wormed her way into his heart – he hoped his beloved Joanna turned out like Miri.

Galloway was peering at him and he asked the hobgoblin, "Is he dead, Mister Spock?"

Jim was the one to answer however, "The blemishes are fading. They – they're gone! Yes! Thank you Miri, thank you Bones," he'd never live that name down, dammitall, "thank you Spock!"

* * *

They were back on the Bridge of the ship as it orbited the planet again, and Jim sighed, looking at Janice as she watched the viewscreen mournfully, "They were just children. Simply to leave them there with a medical team…"

Jim smiled at her, "Just children, three hundred years old and more. Don't worry though, Yeoman. I've already contacted Space Central. They'll send teachers, advisors and guardians for the kids."

Bones added in, "And truant officers, I presume."

Jim grinned, "Yep! They'll be all right."

Janice looked askance at him, "Miri. She really loved you, you know."

Jim rolled his eyes with a slight smile, "I know. However, I never get involved with older women, Yeoman."

Then he turned away from her and towards Spock, "Spock?"

Spock asked him, "Yes, Captain?"

He smiled, eyes twinkling as he said, "Full speed ahead. Warp factor one."

Spock almost-smiled back, "Aye. Warp factor one, Captain."

It was time to hare off into another part of space.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:**  TRIGGER WARNING: There are mentions of rape in this chapter. I'm sorry for taking so long to get this out, but gaps of this length and possibly more are simply going to happen because, as much as I adore writing this, some content is exceedingly difficult for me to get through, and I'm having a lot of struggles right now with my mental health. I've had to go to a Crisis Unit since I last posted, been on eight different medications, and am soon going to be on a couple more to try and get me to a point where I can sleep at night.  **However** , I have the next two chapters written up, and will be posting them over the next few weeks. No promises as to being posted on schedule, that depends largely on my sleeping schedule and mental state, but ideally they'll be put out in a timely fashion. Thank you all for your support in this fic!

* * *

Spock sat next to Jim and looked at him, slight trepidation running through their bond as he softly said, "Jim? Did you mean what you said to Miri?"

Jim smiled up at him and extended a hand to lay it over Spock's. "Eventually, yes, I would love to raise a child with you, whether we have to use a surrogate or if we decide to adopt."

Spock flushed lightly – his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning the most adorable light green – and Jim sat up, sliding closer and pressing his mouth to Spock's ear and trailing his lips down the edge, earning himself a soft hiss of encouragement. He smirked, before scooting in front of Spock and tangling his fingers in that oh-so-tidy haircut, mussing it up as he slid his lips against his t'hy'la's. It was cool, but hot, tingles spreading through him as he coaxed Spock's mouth open with his tongue. His partner opened eagerly and Jim was the one hissing this time as a dextrous tongue – Spock could probably tie a cherry stem into a knot with his tongue just like Jim could and  _fuck_  but that was sexy as hell – tangled with his, and slender fingers slid into his hair, nails scratching over his scalp.

The Captain of the  _Enterprise_  basked in the warmth and adoration and lust thrumming through their strengthening bond, and thought that this was the best thing to ever happen to him as he finally pulled away from the kiss, panting softly and resting his forehead against Spock's.

Spock brushed his meld points and filled him with his emotion, both of them practically marinating in the shared, familiar emotions. They soaked in each other's love, deep and fathomless, a bond that neither of them had really ever expected to be able to experience; Spock because he was one-of-a-kind and an outcast, Jim because he was too traumatised to let most people in.

" _Thank you for letting_ _ **me**_ _in, Jim._ _My t_ _aluhk Jim._ "

Fuck, why was being called "precious" such a beautiful thing? It nearly made him cry and he felt the sensation of a mental kiss as he clung to Spock and they slowly exited their combined minds as they returned to their physical forms, Jim's cornflower eyes shining with happiness. He took a minute to compose himself before commenting casually, "So… you'll never guess what happened earlier."

Spock raised an elegant eyebrow and wryly asked, "Did Janice Rand congratulate you on your relationship with me? It certainly was a shock to have her do so with me, I wonder how she found out?"

Jim pouted and grumbled, "Fine, ruin my fun. And yes, she did. I think we need to finally come clean to our other best friends about the relationship."

Spock nodded and Jim smiled softly, sending elation and love through to him, before Spock quietly asked, "Did you need to talk about the latest mission, Jim?"

He winced; yeah, probably, but… was he ready for it? "I… I don't know if I  _can_ , yet…"

Spock kissed him sweetly, fingers caressing his, as he stated softly, "Take as much time as you need, k'diwa. I will not hold it against you."

That reassurance made Jim smile and he slid into Spock's lap, resting against the Vulcan's firm chest as strong arms wrapped around his torso.

He could tell Spock in his own time.

* * *

_It was a slaughterfest. Executioners gunning down hundreds of innocent men, women, and children as they gathered in the square, and Jimmy and Tommy ran out, grabbing as many children as they could manage to grab and hustling them away to a safer area. They hid out in a series of caves along the beach that Jim had discovered the year before when he was exploring the area._

_The first one to die was a toddler, a three year old little girl who had seen her parents gunned down and refused to eat. Her name was Jessie._

_Jim swore to remember **every**  name._

_Kennet was next, he was older than most of them – sixteen to Jim's twelve – and he ran off and the executioners got him._

_The executioners caught Jim a few times, but he was old enough to know how to trade favours and even though he hated it – it hurt and he was just a kid, he knew he shouldn't have to be doing this – it kept them in food._

_Four more had starved to death before Jim traded his virginity for their first surplus of food. Hiro and Yuna, a pair of twin seven year olds; Gwen, who was ten; and Fiore, who was two._

_Right now he was running, leading Kodos' men away from their hiding place, getting shot at – duck, roll, dash – and killing, and knowing that ultimately he would be caught and tortured (again), that he would have to find a way to escape (again), and that he would then have to bribe the nearest outpost as soon as he was out, because he couldn't risk getting the food he'd first stolen._

_He was so, **so** , tired._

Jim shot up, a tortured scream on his lips but not escaping his mouth as the nightmare –  _again, again, fuck this shit_  – slid into his third time being tortured on Tarsus, and his door opened like it always did ever since his relationship with Spock had become an actual relationship. The Vulcan could sense his nightmares.

He shuddered, and a cool body slid into his bed, wrapping arms tightly about him, stroking his hair, murmuring nonsense into his ear until he was calmer. "Taluhk, do you think that instead of  _telling_  me, you could  _show_  me?"

Jim paused at that, clutching at Spock's chest as he hummed a little shakily. It wasn't as if he needed to hash it out immediately. He had Ilena for that. Spock didn't have nightmares, and this way… This way when he did decide it was time to talk, Spock would already know.

The blonde nodded against his partner's chest. Yeah that was a great idea and besides, Spock likely already knew very much because of the nightmares leaking through. "Okay." he whispered softly against his k'diwa's chest.

Spock lifted his head up for a sweet kiss and he whimpered into the mouth attached to his, before Spock pulled away and caressed his meld points, gently easing into Jim's mind and Jim  _let go_.

_Jim was twelve and coming home only to see bodies littering the streets. Bile rose, and he threw up right in the middle of the road, screaming and sobbing out his rage and his pain._

_He was twelve and just became a murderer, all for the sake of some food to feed his kids._

_Jim was thirteen, just barely, and he had just lost his virginity in the worst, most brutal way possible; he headed back to his (hopefully temporary – didn't Starfleet have to get here eventually?) home, limping, bleeding, beaten._

_Three kids died in the first week._

_Four in the second._

_Six in the third._

_Nine in the fourth._

_And then – Rescue. He almost murdered them where they stood before they proved to him that they were there to help._

_It was too late for most of the kids though. Jim remembered their names, every last one._

_Jessie, age three. Kennet, age sixteen, the oldest of them. Hiro, age seven. Yuna, age seven. Gwen, age ten. Fiore, age two. Helen, age five. Jonathan, age nine. Vivian, age three. Leah, age five. Nathan, age ten. Donna, age eleven. Frank, age twelve. Charlie, age ten. Carrie, age nine. Hussein, age seven. Bill, age eleven. Xenia, age nine. Sarah, age two. Keith, age four. Colin, age ten. Gary, age five._

_He **still**  hadn't forgiven Starfleet for taking so long._

Spock gently soothed him through each memory, watching silently, letting his emotions of remorse, comfort, love, acceptance, do the speaking for him. He never judged, he never blamed. He just accepted.

Jim spent the rest of the night encased in strong arms, cradled against a cool body, with comfort murmuring into his mind. He could sleep without fear of more nightmares now.

He could rest, knowing that his k'diwa knew everything and still loved him as much as he had before he knew. He could sleep, words of love being whispered through their bond.


	15. Chapter 15

"Well? Are ya gonna tell me or what, Jim?"

Jim glanced warily at Bones, keeping himself to himself until he figured out what was going on. Since  _when_  was Bones a fan of gossip? Normally he doesn't even listen to the non-gossip that Jim tells him, and he never encourages Jim to tell him things. Granted, Jim does it anyway, but that's because Bones is his other best friend; Bones may barely do it but he listens to Jim when he needs to talk, just like Jim listens to Bones on those rare occasions (usually anniversaries and birthdays) that he needs to talk.

Bones rolled his eyes and glared at Jim, "Look,  _you_  are about to  _burst_  if you don't get it off your chest, and if you tell me what's makin' you so damn happy then at least I know it won't go any further because I don't gossip. Other people probably would."

Well, he had a point there, but he was also wrong because Jim knew the others would respect his privacy as well. "The rest of the Command team-"

"Would gossip just the same, only to each other. And soon somebody would overhear, and it'd spread like wildfire. Me and the hobgoblin – and  _maybe_  Scotty; I dunno though, he might tell Pasha – are the only ones your secret's safe with. And somethin' tells me that our green-blooded crewmate is already privy to this information."

How right he was. Jim felt a smile play across his lips and he played with the shot glass Bones had handed him when he showed up tonight for their weekly drinking "date". "Spock and I are in a relationship. I am stupidly, ridiculously, absurdly happy about this. He loves me, and he told me straight to my face that he loved me. Well, it was in my mind, but that just makes it even more meaningful."

Bones raised an eyebrow and smirked a bit, "Well then. It's about damn time you acted on those feelings you kept pretending didn't exist."

"Hey, I resent that comment! I wasn't in denial about anything, I was just making sure I didn't force his hand."

Bones scoffed lightly, "Yeah, of course that's what you say, but you didn't even tell me you loved him, I figured it out on my own. You might not have been in denial with yourself but you were sure as shit in denial with everybody else."

Jim pouted and gulped down his bourbon. "Fine. Maybe I just didn't know how you would react to finding out that I was in love with "the hobgoblin". It's not like I've had a lot of support in my life. I had no idea how you would react to finding out I loved Spock."

That soft comment made Bones look up. "Look, I'll deny it if you tell anybody else I said it, but I honestly just want you to be happy, Jim. So long as he doesn't hurt you – and somethin' tells me he ain't gonna do that – we're golden."

Jim smiled and nodded. "Thanks, Bones. I appreciate it."

* * *

"Spill."

Spock blinked and looked over at his friend, "Spill what, exactly, Nyota?"

Nyota rolled her eyes, "Oh come on, Spock. You are far more aware of human sayings than you pretend to be. I know you know what that means."

Spock sighed to himself. He had hoped to avoid this conversation, but Nyota was too perceptive for her to have missed the changes in him since he and Jim had begun a relationship. He knew for a fact that he was far more at ease, and Jim had begun touching him far more frequently than he used to – and previously he still touched Spock more than anybody else ever dared to. Not to mention, they had stopped actively hiding their kisses from her since their last mission, so he had known it was only a matter of time. Knowing and being faced with something, were, however, very different things.

He inhaled evenly and "bit the bullet," as Jim would say. "Jim and I have entered an interpersonal relationship with each other."

Nyota smiled softly, "There! See? That wasn't so hard, was it, Spock? I'm not going to make a big deal out of this, don't worry. I'd suspected for a while that things were heading in that direction, the Captain and I are good friends now that I've gotten over myself, and I am absolutely positive that he won't hurt you, so I have no problems with it."

That… was  _not_  the reaction he was expecting. However, it was an exceedingly pleasant surprise. "Thank you, Nyota. I appreciate your support."

She waved his response off, "I just want what's best for you, and you've settled into a much more comfortable frame of mind ever since shortly after the Captain began inviting you to chess, and that air of contentment has only grown over the past few months. He's really good for you, somehow."

Spock meditated on her words before responding, "Jim is far different in private than how he acts around other people, to an extent, at least."

"I figured as much, or he would have likely provoked you into punching him a few times over. I will admit, he's far less arrogant and nothing like as much of a playboy as he pretends he is. Pike had to be mentoring him for a reason, after all, it just took me longer to catch up than it took anybody else."

Spock nodded, "Indeed. Jim is… ideal. In many ways."

That made Nyota giggle, "Is that a roundabout way of admitting you love him?"

Ah. He should clear that up, "No it is not, Nyota. I have no problem with admitting that I am deeply in love with Jim. I let one person leave my life without ever acknowledging how much she meant to me; I refuse to make that mistake again."

His words caused Nyota to blink, before she raised an eyebrow in an impressive impression of himself. "Wow. Since when do you feel that way? I didn't know you'd changed  _that_  much…"

He shook his head, "Jim changed my perception of myself many times over. It is not an outright change as much as it is me accepting that I cannot be as Vulcan as a full-blooded Vulcan, and thus, I must learn to manage my feelings in a different way. If so many people over my life have been able to provoke me into emotional responses, then I was clearly doing something wrong."

"Wow," she whispered. "He really is good for you, Spock. I didn't think anybody could make you see that. I'm very happy for you."

He almost-smiled and tilted his head towards her, "Thank you, Nyota."


End file.
